The Last of the Fereldan Wardens
by gamer072196
Summary: Duncan was lucky. He was able to find seven more recruits for the Wardens. They are all skilled in their own way, there is no doubt about that. The question is... will they be able to survive each other, let alone the Blight? T for safety. Mild cursing with gore from time to time for significant fights. Please review guys!
1. A Day in the Circle

Neria Surana is woken in the middle of the night by one of the senior enchanters of the Circle of Magi and told to head to the Harrowing chamber. _The Harrowing Chamber? It's time for my Harrowing, then._ She gets up and walks up several flights of stairs until she reaches the chamber, which is located at the very top of the Tower of Magi. She looks around and sees Templar guards all around the perimeter and a small pedestal, with a substance that brightly glows blue on it, in the center. _Lyrium._

"Come forth, Apprentice Neria," First Enchanter Irving says, beckoning her.

She walks toward him and sees Knight-Commander Greagoir standing near him. She never really liked Greagoir. He always seemed a little hostile towards her and her best friend, Solona Amell. Even more-so to Jowan, who had been an apprentice longer than either of them.

First Enchanter Irving explains what is to happen and how Neria is to succeed with her Harrowing. "Do not worry, child," he says. "I have faith in you." He gives her a wink, which not only calms her down, but bolsters her confidence.

"Irving, quit stalling," Greagoir commands. "She needs to focus."

Neria gives Greagoir a quick glare before slowly approaching the pedestal. When she reaches it, she stops and touches the lyrium with her finger tips, which launches her into the Fade.

* * *

Solona Amell is woken in the middle of the night by a senior enchanter, who tells her to head to the Harrowing chamber.

"But, it's the middle of the night…" she responds, yawning.

"I know," he responds. "But, you must wake up. You do want to become a mage, don't you?"

"Of course… I do," she says, still yawning.

"Then get up and head to the Harrowing chamber. Must I carry you?"

"No, no. I'm going."

She gets up and walks up a few floors and arrives at the chamber. She sees one of the Templar guards carrying Neria away from a pedestal in the middle of the room and she almost rushes out to the guard. Irving walks up to her and places a comforting hand on her shoulder. _He always was nice to us. He's almost like a grandfather to me._

"Is she…?" Solona asks, worried about her best friend.

"She is fine, Solona," Irving responds. "The guard is simply taking her to her bed so she can rest."

"Good. She's like a sister to me you know."

"I can see that," Irving responds with a chuckle. "I'm sure she feels the same way."

"We haven't got all night, Irving," Greagoir states. "Let's get started already."

Solona glares at Greagoir while Irving explains the Harrowing, emphasizing the dangers because he knows that Solona can be careless at times.

"Are you ready?" he asks her.

"Yes. I am," she responds.

"Then approach the pedestal."

Solona slowly approaches the pedestal. She reaches it and, hesitatingly, dips her fingers into the lyrium, throwing her into the Fade.

* * *

The next morning, Neria wakes up to Jowan sitting next to her bed.

"Hey, Neria. Good morning," he greets.

"Didn't I tell you not to watch me when I'm sleeping?"

"Sorry, but I heard that you and Solona had your Harrowings last night and I wanted to ask you about it."

"Why me? Why not Solona?"

"Are you joking? You know what she's like in the morning. Besides, I wasn't sure she would even tell me about it."

"Sorry, but you know I can't talk about it either."

"And here I thought we were friends…"

"We are. I just can't tell you about my Harrowing."

"Ugh, this is so frustrating. I've been here longer than either of you and I'm still an apprentice."

"Don't worry. Besides, I'm sure that me and Solona will get a bunch of duties today, so just enjoy your time being an apprentice."

"I don't enjoy it, though. I hate it."

"Just make the most of it."

"Easy for you to say. You're a mage now."

"That doesn't mean that you won't be. Who knows? Your Harrowing might be tonight, for all we know."

"I… guess that's true. Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome. Anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"Uh… oh, right. The first enchanter wants to see you and Solona in his quarters."

"Why?"

"I don't know. He didn't tell me. I saw Greagoir walking in as I was leaving. I think he glared at me as I passed him."

"I wouldn't be surprised. He doesn't seem to like mages much."

"Me even less-so."

"That might just be in your head. I guess I should go find Solona."

"Sure. Goodbye Neria."

Jowan leaves and Neria goes to find Solona. She finds her in her bed, fast asleep. Neria walks up to the bed and starts shaking Solona awake.

"Ugh… What now?" Solona asks with a yawn, annoyed.

"Irving wants to see us," Neria informs.

"Can't he wait? I'm tired…"

"Why are you always so difficult in the morning?

"Argh… fine."

Solona gets out of her bed and punches Neria in the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Waking me up. Let's go talk to Irving."

Neria and Solona head up one floor and go to First Enchanter Irving's quarters, where they see Irving, Greagoir, and another older man standing. The man looks heavily armed.

"Ah. There they are," Irving announces.

"So these are the two young women who completed their Harrowings last night," says the armed man. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Duncan of the Grey Wardens."

"A Grey Warden?" Neria asks. "Why are you here?"

"Duncan is here asking for mages to bring with him to Ostagar," Irving explains. "There is a horde of darkspawn in the Korcari Wilds that might be large enough to attack Ferelden, if left unchecked."

"And we are not sending any more mages there!" Greagoir states. "You don't need them, Duncan.

"Yes we do, Greagoir," Duncan responds. "We were only given seven mages. We need at least one mage per contingent to fight the darkspawn."

"And what happens if they decide that they don't want to go back?"

"Greagoir, Duncan is right," Irving responds. "I will hand-pick the mages we send to Ostagar, if it will make you feel better."

"Argh, fine."

Greagoir turns and storms out of the room, almost knocking Neria and Solona out of the way.

"He could have said 'Excuse me,'" Solona snorts.

"I doubt he wouldn't do the same to any other mage," Neria responds. "You wanted to see us, First Enchanter?"

"Yes," Irving responds. "I wanted to congratulate the both of you on passing your Harrowings."

"Thank you, First Enchanter."

"I also wanted to give you two these." Irving holds out two sets of robes and two staffs, one of each for Neria and Solona.

"Wow! My first staff!" Solona squeals with delight, taking one of the staffs.

"And look at the robes! They're so soft!" Neria chimes in excitedly, taking one of the sets of robes.

"My, my. Aren't we excited?" Irving says, chuckling. He hands Solona her robes and Neria her staff. "I expect that you will both be working hard from now on?"

"Yes, First Enchanter," Neria responds.

"Huh…? Oh! Yes, First Enchanter," Solona responds hurriedly, fascinated by her staff.

"Uh, First Enchanter?" Neria asks. "May I ask Duncan a question?"

"Go ahead," Duncan responds. "I'd be happy to answer any questions you have."

"Ok, well, are you, uh, recruiting?"

"Well, my main purpose here is to bring more mages to Ostagar, but the Grey Wardens of Ferelden could always use another member. Especially a mage."

"How would someone be recruited?"

"I would have to see their skills for myself. The Grey Wardens are made up of a variety of backgrounds: From commoner to king. Dwarf, human, or Elf. Sometimes even criminals become Grey Wardens."

"So anyone who is skilled enough can join? Hmm…"

"Neria, you better not be thinking what I think you're thinking," Solona warns.

"Don't worry."

"I wasn't, but now I am."

"I can see you two have much to talk about," Irving chuckles. "You may do so after you take Duncan to his room."

"Do you know where it is Duncan?" Neria asks.

"It has been quite some time since I have been in the Tower. I'm afraid that I do not remember," Duncan replies.

"It is on this floor, past the library. Once you have taken Duncan to his room, the day is yours," Irving explains.

"Really?" Solona asks.

"Yes, Solona."

"What are we waiting for?"

Solona and Neria slip their Mage robes over their Apprentice robes and exit Irving's quarters. They walk down the hall until they get to Duncan's room. They enter the room and see a young man sitting in the corner. The young man, clad in chainmail armor with a sword and shield on his back, stands up quickly.

"Welcome back, Duncan," he greets. "And who are these two lovely young women that are with you?"

"Hello Aedan. This is Neria Surana and Solona Amell," Duncan responds, gesturing to Neria and Solona in turn. "They are the two newest mages in the Circle of Magi."

"Hello Neria and Solona. I am Aedan Cousland. Son of Bryce Cousland, the teyrn of Highever," Aedan introduces, with a bow.

"Oh! My lord Cousland!" Solona responds hurriedly, bowing in respect.

"Hello, ser Aedan," Neria responds, nodding her head politely. "I have heard about you from Solona, though now I see that she may have exaggerated your likeness quite a bit."

"How so?" Aedan asks.

"As I recall, she said that you were over six feet in height."

"Ah, she must have been thinking of my brother. What else did she exaggerate?"

"She said something about you having a-"

"Quiet!" Solona yells at Neria in a near panic.

"Looks like someone has a secret or two," Aedan responds with a chuckle.

"Don't we all?" Neria asks.

"How very true."

"Are you a Grey Warden?"

"Not officially, no. I'm still just a recruit."

"That's more than most can say."

"That's true as well. You are very wise for someone so young."

"Thank you."

"Excuse us ladies, but Aedan and I need to talk in private," Duncan says politely.

"Of course. Farewell."

"It was a pleasure to meet you, my lord," Solona says walking backward into the hall, head bowed.

"The pleasure was mine," Aedan responds. "Farewell."

Neria and Solona exit Duncan's room, closing the door behind them. Solona starts glaring at Neria as soon as the door shuts completely.

"What?" Neria asks.

"You embarrassed me in front of Aedan Cousland!" Solona yells.

"I think you did that on your own. 'Oh! My lord Cousland!'"

"Hey! At least I showed him proper respect."

"By nearly kissing his boots? I think you went a little too far with your 'respect' on him."

"Why you-"

"Psst. Neria. Over here," Jowan says from around the corner.

"Jowan? What is it ?" Neria responds.

"Come here. I need your help."

"Help with what?" Solona asks, almost forgetting her recent argument with Neria.

"I just want Neria to help. No offense, Solona."

"Fine. I'll be in the library if you need me." Solona turns and walks away towards the library while Neria walks toward Jowan, cautiously.

"What's wrong Jowan?" Neria asks.

"Not here. Follow me and I'll tell you."

"Uh… Ok…"

They walk into the Tower's prayer hall and head to a corner with an initiate standing there, waiting.

"Who's that?" Neria asks.

"Do you remember when I told you that I… met someone? This is she," Jowan responds.

"Solona thought you were lying. Good for you."

"Thank you. You remember when I told you that I never wanted to become Tranquil, correct?"

"Yes. Why would you… Oh. I see. How do you know?"

"I saw the documents on Greagoir's desk," Lily explains. "Irving's signature was on them."

"Why would they want to make you Tranquil?"

"There are… rumors, about me being a blood mage," Jowan admits.

"A blood mage? I hate to ask but, are those rumors true?"

"No! Of course not. But it's not safe for me to stay in the Tower anymore."

"So you plan on running away? What about your phylactery?"

"We have to destroy it. Lily can get us in, but there's a problem."

"There is a door that has two locks," Lily explains. "Irving and Greagoir each have one."

"So we have to break it down?" Neria asks. "Don't you think that the door would be protected from magic? It doesn't make sense to lock away something from a mage using a simple key."

"The door itself might be, but the locks themselves may be melted," Jowan states.

"So a rod of fire? I'm not sure if Owain would give me one."

"Why not? You're a full-fledged mage now. Solona too."

"Hmm… Maybe I could convince Solona to help."

"Why? She doesn't like me much. I don't think she would want to help anyway."

"I'll convince her. Besides, she's in the library. Maybe she found something that could help us."

"Alright, alright. Please hurry though."

Neria turns and leaves the prayer hall. After walking down the hall and into the library, she sees Solona talking with Senior Enchanter Leorah. Neria waits until they are finished before walking over to Solona.

"Hey Neria," Solona says. "You done talking to Jowan?"

"Solona. I need your help."

"You too? I just cleared those caves of giant spiders. Maker's breath, I hate those things."

"It's about Jowan. They're going to make him Tranquil."

"Tranquil? Why?"

"People think he might be a blood mage."

"Jowan? A blood mage? I'll believe it when I see it."

"Solona, this is serious. We need to help Jowan escape from the Circle. It's not safe for him anymore."

"You realize that if we help, we'll probably be made Tranquil, right?"

"That's only if we get caught. We need to do this fast."

"Don't you think we could tell Irving? Maybe cancel the Rite of Tranquility?"

"I don't see how that would work considering how he signed for it."

"Blast. Alright, what's the plan?"

"We have to destroy his phylactery before he can escape."

"That means we have to go into the lowest part of the tower."

"Well, we got a way in, but there is a locked door that is likely protected against magic, so we have to get a rod of fire to melt the locks."

"Owain has those in the stockroom, right? We can get one there."

"Good. Let's go."


	2. Dwarven Politics in Action

Duran Aeducan had been putting on his armor as his best friend, and loyal second, Gorim entered his room. He finished putting on his gauntlets and turned to greet him with a grin on his face.

"Hello Gorim," he says.

"Hello, milord," Gorim responds.

"Oh, come now Gorim. We're friends. You don't need to refer to me as 'milord' all the time. Just in front of Father and Trian."

"And don't forget the rest of the nobles in Orzammar."

"Ha! True. Did you come here to tell me something?"

"Just that your armor is going to get you a lot of attention from the ladies."

"I'd hope so! This is the finest armor I have ever gotten, and it better serve me well tomorrow."

"I'm sure it will. Would you like your shield?"

"Why not? Might as well show that off too." Gorim hands Duran his shield and he admires it for a minute. _The Aeducan family shield… I've earned this._ He straps the shield onto his back and pats Gorim on the shoulder. "Well, Gorim… let's see what kind of trouble we can get into today."

* * *

After meeting all the merchants who were allowed into the Diamond Quarter, one of which fainted at the sight of Duran, and watching the Provings, Duran and Gorim started to head back to the palace, only to run into Trian and Bhelen, Duran's older and younger brothers respectively.

"Duran," Trian starts. _Oh, great. Here it comes…_ "What are you doing out here? You should be at the palace. Father prepared this day for you and you are out here wondering around?"

"I apologize, milord," Gorim starts. "We wer-"

"You will speak when spoken to!"

"Why do you have to be such an ass, Brother?" Duran asks, irritated that Trian always treated Gorim like trash.

"You dare talk to me like that?"

"Oh, I 'dare' to talk to you however I feel like. I don't automatically have to give you respect whenever you want."

"Enough! You will return to the palace immediately."

"I'll return when I sodding feel like it."

"You should learn to curb your tongue."

"Or what? You'll have me exiled?"

"Brothers, please stop this fighting," Bhelen pleads. "You're making a scene."

"Yes, Brother," Duran agrees, making a perfectly obvious taunting tone. "We don't want your future subjects to see you making an ass of yourself."

"Fine," Trian concedes. "Father will hear of this."

"Sure, he will," Duran scoffs. He rolls his eyes as Trian and Bhelen turn and walk towards the palace.

"He will make a **great **king," Gorim comments sarcastically when they are out of earshot.

"I don't understand why Father would want **him **to be king. I understand that he is the eldest of us but, Trian is nowhere near the man Father is."

"I wouldn't be surprised if the Assembly made you king."

"That'll be the day! It would really get under Trian's skin. I can't help but wonder though…"

"One day, my friend."

"We'll see. I guess we should go back to the palace, huh? Father is waiting for me."

They start walking to the palace, passing through the Diamond Quarter and the merchants located there. The merchant who fainted earlier was sitting down, rubbing the back of his head, looking almost ashamed. They enter the palace and head to the throne room. There are nobles all around and Duran's father, King Endrin Aeducan, sits on the throne, waiting for Duran. They approach the throne and Gorim drops down on one knee out of respect for his king.

"Ah, Duran. So you decided to return, have you?" Endrin says with a chuckle.

"Yes, Father," Duran responds.

"And I see you have your shield with you. I trust you are excited about your new role?"

"Of course. I expect Trian complained about me being away from the palace?"

"He did, but I told him what I told you: you were free to do as you will as long as you were back for the feast."

"And here I am. Shall we begin with the feast, Father?"

"Of course, my son." Endrin called the nobles to attention before praising Duran with his new position as Commander of House Aeducan's warriors. After the feast, Bhelen calls Duran and Gorim over to talk to them.

"What is it, Bhelen?" Duran asks.

"We need to talk about Trian," Bhelen states, making sure Trian wasn't close enough to hear them.

"Is this about the argument we had in the Diamond Quarter? Brother, it was nothing."

"Not that, though that may be part of it."

"What then?"

"There is talk that Assembly is considering you for king after Father."

"Me?"

"Yes. Trian has heard this and he doesn't like it one bit."

"Of course he doesn't. He was pissed when I won the Provings and he never did, I can't see why he wouldn't be upset about this."

"There's more to it, though."

"What do you mean?"

"I think he might be planning to get rid of you."

"'Get rid of me'? Don't be ridiculous, Brother!"

"I hate to say it, but I wouldn't put it past Trian," Gorim states.

"Trian wouldn't do anything that might jeopardize his chances at becoming king. And I have no desire to take the throne from him."

"I don't think Trian cares about that," Bhelen explains. "He wants to become king so bad that he would eliminate any threat to his rule. And right now, that's you."

Duran practically bursts out laughing. _Trian wants to kill me? That's ridiculous!_ "Trian doesn't like me, sure, but that doesn't me he'd kill me."

"I'm trying to warn you. I don't want to lose the brother I actually **like**."

"I'm sure it's nothing. Don't worry, Brother."

"I hope you're right…" Bhelen turns and leaves.

"I swear, sometimes Bhelen can be hilarious."

"I think he was being serious," Gorim says, somewhat concerned.

"I doubt it. And if he was, the best time for Trian to try it would be tomorrow when we are in the Deep Roads. Would be easy for him to blame it on darkspawn."

"You realize that he would have to kill me too, right?"

"And that's why I said 'try.' As long as you and I have each other's back, nothing can kill us."

"You're right. Let's go. You don't want to keep those two lovely ladies waiting."

Duran laughs before he and Gorim head to find the two women Duran had 'invited' to his room.

* * *

The trip to the Aeducan thaig took several hours. The entire house went, as well as Lord Pyral Harrowmont, King Endrin's most trusted advisor, and Gorim. Trian was to clear out a path for the rest of the house while Duran was to take Gorim and venture deep into the thaig to find an ancient shield that had been lost when the darkspawn conquered it. He was to meet up with two scouts on the way there who had found the right paths, then use his signet ring to open a door that would lead to the area where the shield was located.

After fighting through a dozen-or-so genlocks, they found the first scout. They continued and fought through more genlocks before finding the second scout. They eventually got to the door, only to find it wide open.

"It's open?" Gorim asks, dumbfounded and somewhat suspicious. "It was supposed to be closed. You think Trian came through here?"

"I don't know," Duran responds. "It certainly makes more sense than the darkspawn leaving it open for us, just to be nice. Besides, you'd need an Aeducan signet ring to open it."

"I don't like this. You suppose Trian is waiting to ambush us?"

"He's not one for surprise attacks. And if did he want to ambush us, then he ruined the element of surprise by leaving the door wide open."

"A straight up fight then?"

"**If** Trian is in there, maybe. Let's go and find out."

They walk through the door and come to a large cavern which has buildings in various states of disrepair. In the center of the cavern, they see over a dozen dwarves spread out, looking for something. Duran and Gorim walk towards them, getting the attention of one who appears to be the leader.

"Ah, there you are. Trian said you'd be coming soon. Said to deal with you however we wanted to," he says.

"Looks like Bhelen was right after all. I imagine that Trian also wants you to find the shield?"

"Yeah, but we can't find the sodding thing. You know where it is, I guess. Do I have to beat it out of you before I kill you all?"

"First, tell me how you got in."

"Trian gave me his signet ring and gave me a map showing how to get here. Now, where is that shield?"

"It's written on my blade." Duran unsheathes his sword and grabs his shield as Gorim does the same. "You want a closer look?"

"Fine, we do this the hard way. Attack!"

Duran charges at the leader while he and his follower unsheathe their weapons and hits him with his shield before slashing at his chest, killing him. The scouts start attacking as Gorim blocks a blow with his shield and decapitates another attacker. After killing the rest of the attackers, Gorim sheathes his sword and places his shield on his back before turning to Duran.

"They were sent by Trian? And he gave them his signet ring so they could get here? We need to tell your father," Gorim says.

"Trian is nothing if not prepared," Duran explains. "It's likely that he gave Father the slip and is waiting for us. Probably with even more men."

"At least we know he's there."

"Come on. Let's get the shield and find my dear older brother." Duran turns and opens a hidden door, which leads to a tomb. He orders the scouts and Gorim to stand on three hidden pressure plates, which opens the sarcophagus. Duran reaches into the sarcophagus and grabs the shield before Gorim and the scouts step off the pressure plates. Duran carefully places the shield in his pack before they leave the room. They walk back to the area where they met the first scout and see Trian and several of his men lying on the ground, dead.

"Damn," Gorim curses. "You think it was darkspawn?"

Duran crouches next to his brother's body, resting his hand on his breastplate. "Doubt it. There'd be fresh darkspawn bodies. I'm not seeing any other than the ones we killed. It had to be something else."

Then, Bhelen arrives with the rest of the house and Harrowmont. "Hurry, Father. Before it is too…"

Endrin rushes over to Trian's body and looks to Duran in shock. "Duran. Please tell me it isn't what it looks like."

"You… think I killed Trian?" Duran asks, shocked that his own father might think he killed his own brother.

"I don't know. Please tell me you didn't."

"Of course I didn't, Father. I may not have liked him, but I wouldn't kill him."

"Unfortunately, we cannot simply take your word for it," Lord Harrowmont admits.

"Duran did not kill Trian. He was dead when we arrived," Gorim explains, defending his friend and lord.

"Considering your loyalty, we can't take your testimony. We need and unbiased answer."

"You there," Endrin orders, pointing to one of the scouts. "What happened to my son?"

"We came here and he was waiting for us," the scout started. "Duran walked up to him all friendly-like." _What? That didn't happen._ "Then he grabbed his blade and ran him through, then ordered us to attack."

"What?!" Duran exclaims. "You lie!"

"Clap him in irons and strip his weapons," orders Harrowmont.

"Wait. I need to be sure that's what happened," Endrin says, turning to other scout. "Can you confirm his story?"

"I… Yes," begins the other scout. "That's exactly what happened. It was… horrible. They never knew what hit them."

"You traitorous bastard!" Gorim shouts, furious.

"This is ridiculous!" Duran protests. "I never did that!"

"I'm… sorry, my son," Endrin apologizes. "I wish I could believe you…"

"Take them away," Harrowmont orders. They strip Duran and Gorim of their weapons and march them off to Orzammar. Duran looks toward Bhelen and realizes that he set the whole thing up. _He was hoping I'd decide Trian was a threat so I would actually kill him. When I told him it was nothing, he probably killed Trian himself and lead Father to me so it looked like I did it._ "Bhelen set this up," he whispers to Gorim.

"You sure?" Gorim asks, whispering too.

"Absolutely. Me and Trian both overshadowed him and he had no chance of getting the throne with both of us alive. So, he wanted me to kill Trian so I'd be exiled."

Gorim curses under his breath.

"I'm going to kill that bastard if it's the last thing I do."

* * *

Duran had been in his cell all night, trying to figure out how to clear his name and get back at Bhelen. He hears footsteps approaching his cell and assumes it's another guard so he doesn't budge. Then Gorim appears from around the corner and Duran gets up, walking up to the bars of his cell. "Gorim! You got released?"

"No, my lord. I'm getting exiled to the surface, but they are letting me keep my weapons and armor," Gorim explains.

"What about me?"

"Your father tried to get the same for you, but Bhelen has got half the Assembly in his pocket. You're to be exiled to the Deep Roads with only a blade and shield."

"No trial?"

"I'm sorry, my lord. Bhelen has the Assembly fast tracking the process to get you exiled. I think he's afraid that if they investigate, they'll find you innocent."

"That sodding duster!"

"Your father has a message for you."

"What is it?"

"He said to find a way to the surface. And, if you can't, try to find the Legion.

"That's all?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Gorim, you don't need to call me 'my lord' anymore. Not after what happened."

"Yes, my- Of course Duran."

"Well, you'd best head to the surface. Maybe I'll find you somewhere out there."

"I hope so. Best of luck to you."

"And you, my friend."

Gorim turns and heads out of the dungeons as three guards arrive with Lord Harrowmont. "It is time," he says, unlocking the cell.

They walk out of the dungeons and head to the mines, toward the main door separating Orzammar and the Deep Roads. They open the door and Lord Harrowmont hands Duran a dagger and buckler shield. _What am I supposed to do with weapons like this?_ "You have been exiled from Orzammar and your name stripped from the Memories. You are to take these weapons and kill as many darkspawn as possible before you perish. Do you have anything to say?"

"I didn't do this."

"I'm sorry it came to this, Duran. But, I have no choice. The Assembly has spoken. But, for your father's sake, look me straight in the eye and tell me what really happened to Trian."

Duran looks Harrowmont in the eye with the most serious look had ever given anyone. "I did not kill Trian. It was all set up by Bhelen, as crazy as that sounds."

"I believe you. And I will make sure that Bhelen pays for this."

"Might be hard, considering how half the Assembly is in his pocket."

"Your father should be able to sway them. It is time for you to go. May the Stone embrace you when you fall, Duran."

"Thank you."

Harrowmont and the three guards turn around and walk through the door, shutting it behind them. _Time to figure out how to get to the surface._ Duran walks down a tunnel and fights a few genlocks, taking what he can use. After a while, he is able to scavenge a chainmail breastplate and a pair of chainmail boots. Soon after, he finds a longsword and targe shield before he runs into a large group of genlocks. The group is large enough that he can't face them on his own, but they see him and attack. He blocks a blow with his shield and slices the genlock with his longsword. He kills a few more before he starts getting backed into a corner. Running out of options, he crouches and lifts the shield up to protect him from the blows he receives. Eventually, the amount of blows proves too much for him to handle and he is forced to drop his shield, leaving him vulnerable and at the mercy of his attackers. A genlock raises its sword for a killing blow before a blade emerges from its chest. The blade retracts and the genlock slumps to the ground. Duran looks up from the genlock's body to see who saved him. He sees a dwarves woman standing over him, hand outstretched and covered in darkspawn blood. She has brown hair and seemingly delicate features, petite and beautiful. Duran looks at her face more closely and notices she has a tattoo that only casteless had on her right cheek.

He drops his longsword and takes her hand as she helps him up.

"You alright?" she asks.

"Thanks to you." Duran winces as he places his shield on his back. _Must've pulled a muscle._ "Who are you?"

"Natia Brosca. You look familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before?"

"Maybe. I'm Duran Aeducan."

"Ah, now I recognize you. Endrin's second son. Saw you heading to the Provings one time. What are you doing here?"

"It's… complicated."

"Politics?"

"You could say that. What about you?"

"I won the Provings."

Duran looks around and sees all the genlocks Natia had killed. "I don't doubt it."

"That's just the short story though. Long story involves Beraht's carta."

"Beraht's carta? That's… interesting."

"What? Nothing to say about my brand?"

"You just saved my life. I'm not about to insult you."

"Huh. Most people wouldn't think of it as an insult. More like a label."

"I guess growing up in Dust Town was hard?"

"Why do you care? You grew up in that palace in the Diamond Quarter. Given everything from day one."

"Touchy subject?"

"Sorry. Most people don't ask about Dust Town much other than, 'What's the quickest way out of here?'"

"So life is bad?"

"Worse. Can't get jobs so we either beg for coin or turn to crime. Most times we don't have a choice."

"I guess you didn't have a choice?"

"Neither did my sister. All Beraht wanted her for was to woo some noble so she could have a son. Then, he'd claim he was a relative and be raised to noble status."

"That's horrible."

"Good thing I gutted the bastard on the way out. Practically destroyed the carta with my friend, Leske."

"The **whole** carta?"

"Yeah. It felt… good. At least my sister won't have to worry about Beraht and his goons."

"Was it just you and her?"

"Might as well have been. My mother was there too, but she was either blind drunk, or hung-over most of the time. Completely worthless."

"No father?"

"Mother said he struck out for the surface after I was born. I say he had the right idea."

"I never knew it was that bad."

"I'd say you were lying, but… you actually look like you feel sorry for me."

"I do. I wish I could change things…"

"You actually mean it? You aren't just saying it to get me to help you get out of the Deep Roads?"

"Of course I mean it."

"Wow. I… never thought I'd meet someone who would say that sincerely."

"Well, maybe they never got a chance to get to know you."

"I guess you're right… How's your shield arm? You got pretty banged up."

"I think I tore a muscle. I can move it, but it's painful."

"Let me see." Duran lets Natia lift his arm so she can get a better look, but winces when she lifts it up to just-under shoulder height. "That hurt?"

"Yeah. Not sure if I can lift it higher than that."

"Don't try. Your shoulder is dislocated."

"Funny, I never felt it pop."

"Make sense, considering how hard they were hitting your shield. I'm going to need to pop your arm back into the socket." She straightens out Duran's arm and grabs it tightly with both hands. "You might want to find something to bite down on."

Duran uses his free hand to grab a rag from his pocket and crumbles it into a ball before placing it into his mouth.

"You ready? This will hurt **a lot**." Duran nods and braces himself as Natia puts all her weight into pushing his arm back into its socket. He chomps down on the rag tightly as his arm pops back into place with a loud 'pop.' Natia lets go of his arm and he grabs his shoulder as his arm drops. He spits out the rag and moans in pain. "Told you it would hurt." She reaches down for his longsword and sheathes it for him before helping him to his feet again. "I've made a camp for myself nearby. You're free to come with me."

"Might as well. Safety in numbers, right?"


	3. From Mages to Grey Wardens

_**A/N:**_ Sorry this chapter is shorter than the first two. I kinda wanted to rush through the combat because I'm not sure how the bolts launched from a mage's staff would actually hurt the sentinels, let alone kill them. I also wanted to streamline Duncan recruiting Neria and Solona.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

After getting the rod of fire from Owain, Solona said she had to do something real quick. Neria told her where to meet her, Jowan, and Lily, but Solona had been gone for a while. _Where is she?_

A few minutes later, Solona came running to them. "Alright. I'm ready."

"Good. The sooner we do this, the better," Jowan says, anxious to escape.

They leave the prayer hall and head down to the first floor and find the entrance to the basement, where the apprentice phylacteries are stored. They open the door and go down into the basement. It is fairly dark and cold, sending a chill up Neria's spine. They come to a door and stop, Neria and Solona looking to Lily for explanation.

"This door is made of two-hundred seventy-seven wooden planks. One for each original templar," Lily explains.

"How do we open it?" Neria asks.

"You need a password and a touch of mana."

"I'm guessing you have the password?"

"Yes. The password primes the door, but it won't open without a touch of mana." Lily walks up to the door and says, "Sword of the Maker, Tears of the Fade." A loud 'clunk' is heard as the door responds to the phrase.

"What was that?"

"The door has been primed. Now for the touch of mana. Any spell will do."

"Then why do you need us?" Solona asks.

"The door will only respond to a mage who has been through the Harrowing."

Neria concentrates and launches a bolt of magic at the door, causing it to open.

They walk through the door and head to a second door. "Is this the door you were talking about?" Solona asks.

"Yes," Lily replies.

"Hurry, use the rod of fire! We need to destroy my phylactery so me and Lily can be free," Jowan urges.

Neria tries to use the rod of fire on the locks, but nothing happens. "What the?" She tries again and nothing happens.

"Something's wrong. I can't cast any spells."

"Must have something to do with those wards around the door," Solona guesses. "They probably neutralize all magic around the door."

"That's it. We're finished!"

"You're really going to give up that easily?" Neria asks. "There has to be another way around."

"What about that door over there?" Solona asks, pointing to a door down a hallway on the right.

"That could work. Hopefully that one isn't warded too."

They walk over to the other door and Neria uses the rod of fire on it, melting the lock. Suddenly, one of the sentinel statues wakes up and starts to attack. Neria instantly turns around and hits it with a Stone Fist, sending it flying into a wall. She follows up with a Fireball, killing the sentinel.

"What was that thing?" Solona asks, shocked.

"I think it was a sentinel."

"Sentinels? Great."

"There have to be more ahead. Let's be careful."

They head through the door and walk down a hall before being attacked by more sentinels. They quickly kill them before continuing. After walking for a few minutes, and fighting the occasional group of sentinels, the group comes to a room filled with Tevinter artifacts. Neria notices a staff in the corner of the room and walks over to look at it. She feels the power emanating from it, which is unsurprising considering its origin. She takes the staff and turns to see Solona, Lily, and Jowan standing around an ancient Tevinter statue. As she walks over to them as they turn around and examine the wall behind a bookcase.

"Look," Jowan starts. "This wall wasn't here when they built the tower."

"Looks like they were sloppy when they put this wall in," Neria says, examining the wall. "We could knock it down if we generated enough force."

"Let's move the bookcase first."

Neria nods in agreement before she and Jowan move the bookcase out of the way, revealing the rest of the poorly constructed wall.

"If we could amplify the rod of fire's power, I bet we could destroy the wall," Solona states.

Neria turns around and sees a dog statue which is facing the wall. "I think this might work."

Everyone else turns around and looks at the statue Neria was talking about. "How do you know?" Solona asks.

"Don't you remember? I use to study Tevinter artifacts. This statue amplifies any spell cast around it tenfold."

"Then use the rod of fire on it."

"Alright. Everyone stand back." Solona, Lily, and Jowan move out of the way and hide behind one of the pillars as Neria places the rod of fire on the statue and a huge flame blasts the wall to smithereens. They enter the phylactery chamber after the smoke clears and are attacked by two sentinels, a robed sentinel, and a sentinel guardian. After killing all the sentinels, they walk up a flight of stairs to the phylacteries, one of the starting to glow as Jowan approaches it. He picks it up and turns around. "To think, that this fragile thing is the only thing standing between me… and freedom." Jowan drops his phylactery and it shatters on the ground.

"Too bad my phylactery is in Denerim now," Neria says.

"You still want to escape the Circle?" Solona asks.

"Yeah. The Dalish have had magic for centuries. And they are always out in the forests, away from the templars."

"Escaping worked so well for Anders…"

"He keeps escaping somehow. His problem is that he can't seem to not be caught by the templars."

"You're free to come with us, Neria," Lily offers. "You too, Solona."

"Thanks, but we have to get out of the tower first."

"Uh, Neria? Can I tell you something real quick?" Solona asks.

"What is it?"

"Lily, Jowan. Could you excuse us for a minute?"

"Of course Solona," Lily responds, pulling Jowan down the stairs and out of the repository.

"What's this about Solona?" Neria asks, somewhat confused.

"I… uh… told Irving about Jowan's plans to escape."

"You what?"

"Come on, don't make me repeat it."

"Why?"

"I wanted to make sure he actually decided to make Jowan Tranquil. Somehow, he already knew about him and Lily."

"Just get to the part about you telling him about the plan."

"He wanted to embarrass the Chantry. Said he needed my help. That I wouldn't face any consequences if I helped."

"You told him to save yourself?!"

"No! I told him that I wouldn't help him unless he made sure you weren't punished either."

"And what about Jowan? And Lily?"

"I… don't know. Irving seems to think Jowan might actually be a blood mage, and I don't want to take that chance if he thinks it's possible…"

"What happened to 'I'll believe it when I see it'?"

"This is different. Greagoir gets jumpy when someone so much as mentions blood magic. But, if Irving thinks someone might actually be a blood mage, then it's time to be worried."

"You've known Jowan as long as I have. Do you honestly think he may be a blood mage?"

"I… I don't know."

"Then I guess we'll have to find out, won't we? Come on." Neria leaves the repository to catch up with Lily and Jowan, Solona a few steps behind. They all head out the basement and end up at the first floor of the Tower.

"We made it!" Jowan cheers. "We're home free!"

Greagoir and Irving come from around the corner, flanked by half a dozen templars. "It appears you were right after all, Irving," Greagoir comments with a hint of disgust in his voice. "An initiate conspiring with a blood mage." Neria shoots a quick glare at Solona.

"Greagoir! I… Uh…," Lily stammers.

"She seems shocked, but still in control of her body. Not a thrall of the blood mage, then." He turns to Neria and Solona, glaring at them both. "And these two… newly mages and already disregarding the Circle's rules."

"Solona was acting under my instruction, Greagoir," Irving explains. "She promised her cooperation if Neria was exempt from any punishment."

"Solona?" Jowan asks, shocked. "You told him?"

Solona lowers her head without saying a word.

"Execute the blood mage and take the initiate into custody," Greagoir orders. "She has scorned the Chantry and her vows. Take her to Aeonar."

"Aeonar? The… the mage's prison? Please! Not there!" Lily pleads as a templar approaches her.

"No! I won't let you take her!" Jowan shouts as he grabs a knife from his robe and stabs through his hand. Everyone takes a step away from him as a red mist swirls around him. Then, Jowan summons a wave of energy that throws Irving, Greagoir, and the templars several feet, knocking them all unconscious when they land on the floor.

"Blood magic?" Neria asks, still in shock at the sudden change of events. "You said you weren't a blood mage!"

"I admit, I dabbled. But I'll give it up- I'll give it all up, just to be with Lily."

"I… I don't know who you are anymore," Lily begins as Solona places herself in front of Neria, feeling the need to protect her. "Stay away from me, blood mage."

Jowan looks at Lily, shocked and heartbroken, before running away to escape. Solona and Neria walk towards Irving to make sure he is alright. After a few seconds, everyone starts to regain consciousness and they slowly get up.

"What… happened?" Irving asks, trying to regain his bearings.

"Jowan's gone," Solona answers. "Are you alright?"

"I am fine."

"Blood magic," Greagoir begins, disgusted. "I've see it before, but to overcome so many… I never thought the boy capable of such power."

"Jowan lied to all of us," Neria says, still in shock.

"And you think that excuses you?"

"Greagoir, Solona was acting on my instruction and only asked that Neria did not face any consequences," Irving explains. "I will take full responsibility."

"No! A blood mage is loose and his accomplices should be punished!"

Duncan and Aedan walk in from the same direction Irving and Greagoir had came from. "Greagoir, I wish to recruit these two mages into the Grey Wardens."

"What?! I refuse to see these two rewarded for assisting a blood mage to escape!"

"There are worse things in the world than blood mages, Greagoir. You know that."

"No." Greagoir glares at Duncan and Duncan meets his gaze, staring him down. "Fine," Greagoir finally concedes.

"So… we're both becoming Grey Wardens?" Neria asks, surprised.

"Yes."

"Well… are we heading to Ostagar?"

"No. We will be going to Orzammar to get you two experience in fighting darkspawn."

"The Deep Roads?"

"Of course. We shall leave immediately."

After saying their farewells, Neria and Solona follow Duncan and Aedan out of the Tower, meeting Aedan's mabari hound, Bones, on the way out. _I'm a Grey Warden recruit? This is incredible!_


	4. Out of the Deep Roads, onto the surface

_**A/N:**_ Sorry this one is so late guys. Since the break is over, I'm having trouble getting time to write up chapters. Especially since midterms are around the corner…

Glad to see so many people enjoying the story. It's a nice feeling to get person after person following so soon. For those of you wondering, Howe already attacked Castle Cousland. Aedan's cheerful demeanor is mostly a cover for his grief, as he is trying not to think about it. There will be hints toward it throughout the later chapters and, eventually, everyone else will learn what happened to him.

Well, here's the forth chapter. Back to Duran and Natia. Enjoy!

* * *

It had been over week since being exiled from Orzammar, but both Duran and Natia were still alive. They had been eating deep stalker and giant spider meat and keeping away from darkspawn as much as possible, which was easy because the darkspawn all seemed to be heading south. There had been the occasional patrol from Orzammar, but Duran didn't dare approach them, knowing they were just as likely to kill him as they would a genlock.

Natia's camp was in a small cavern with an entrance so small, they had to crawl through. The camp was cozier than it looked, with a small fire in the center, beds made out of the hide of the giant spiders and filled with their silk for cushioning, and blankets made of deep stalker hide, which worked surprisingly well to keep them warm as they slept. They had trophies of each kill they made strewn around the cavern. Duran took a blade or shield from each darkspawn he killed while Natia took a piece of armor. She fashioned her own armor, which was light but surprisingly durable, out of her trophies and offered to make a set for Duran.

Natia had been out checking the traps she set for deep stalkers when Duran saw a small group of humans, an elf, and what looked like a mabari hound walking by through the entrance to their camp. Not being one for stealth, Duran decided that staying put was the best option. He knew the group had to be Grey Wardens, because most humans weren't brave or foolhardy enough to explore the Deep Roads with nothing less than two dozen men. The mabari stops and sniffs the air before turning towards Duran. _Sod._ Duran backs away from the entrance as the mabari approaches, grabbing his sword and shield in case the mabari attacked. He heard the hound start barking near the entrance, followed by a man's voice. The hound started scratching at the entrance before he heard the man say, "If something is in there, go find it." _Blast!_ Duran could hear the hound start crawling through the entrance and he readied his shield, ready to protect himself. Soon, the hound's head appeared from the entrance and it looked around. When the hound noticed Duran, it flattened its ears and started growling.

"I think he's found something," Duran hears the first man say.

"The entrance is too small for us," says another man.

"I can fit," a woman says. _Must be the elf._

"You sure?" asks another woman.

"Yeah." Duran hears the first woman grunt as she squeezes into the entrance and starts to make her way through. The hound moves out of the way, but keeps it's gaze locked on Duran. Eventually, the woman crawls out of the entrance, stands up, and looks around, examining the camp. She notices Duran and almost reaches for, what looks like, a staff before realizing that Duran isn't attacking. She places a hand on the mabari's head to calm it. The hound backs down from its aggressive stance as the woman crouches to examine Duran.

"So? What's in there?" the second woman asks, sounding somewhat impatient.

"A camp," the elf replies. "And a dwarf."

"A dwarf?" asks the second man.

"Yeah."

Duran eyes the elf suspiciously, not because he actually **was** suspicious of her, but because he wanted to delay as long as he could before Natia got back. If he was going to go with these Wardens to the surface, he was going to bring Natia too.

"Who are you?" the elf asks.

Duran stays silent, not budging from his defensive stance.

"Can you speak?"

Duran only nods.

"Do you live here?"

Duran nods again.

"Alone?"

Duran hesitates before he shakes his head.

"Are you going to talk to me?"

Duran hesitates for a minute. _Should I tell her why I'm here? I barely said anything about how I got exiled to Natia and she saved my hide. Should I say anything at all?_ Before he can decide, he hears Natia sneaking through the side entrance to the cavern. The hound hears her too and turns its head, growling.

"What is it?" the elf asks the hound, following its gaze.

Natia appears from the tunnel behind the elf and draws her blades. The hound hears this and turns around, lunging at her. Natia lifts her arm up and the hound bites down on it, forcing her to the ground. The elf turns around as Duran charges at the hound, bashing it off Natia with his shield before positioning himself so that he was between the hound and elf and Natia. He glances back at Natia and sees that her make-shift armor stood up to the hound's bite.

"Calm down, Bones," the elf says to the mabari, which was still growling at Duran and Natia, ears flattened.

"What was that?" the first man asks.

"Looks like the dwarf has a friend."

"What's going on?" Natia asks Duran, whispering.

Duran shrugs as Natia stands up.

"Don't worry," the elf says to Duran and Natia. "We're not going to hurt you."

"Could've fooled me," Natia responds. "Who are you?"

"I'm Neria. And this is Bones." The elf gestures to the mabari. "Who are you two?"

Natia and Duran look at each other, then sheathe their weapons. The mabari backs down and sits, panting. "I'm Natia. And this is Duran."

"I'm guessing he's the silent type?"

"I just didn't know if I could trust you," Duran explains, only half-lying.

"Ah, so you can speak after all."

Duran ignores the jibe. "I guess you and your friends are Grey Wardens?"

"Close enough. How did you know?"

"Wardens are the only humans who come to the Deep Roads in small groups. It was pretty obvious."

"How long have you been here, exactly?"

"**I've** been here over a week. Natia has been here for twice as long as me."

"How have you survived this long?"

"Tell you what: how about we meet **your** friends first, then we'll talk some more," Natia says, slightly suspicious about Neria being so friendly.

"Uh, ok. What's with the attitude?"

"If there's anything I've learned from living in Dust Town, it's that everyone has an angle. So, are we going to meet your friends or not?"

"Sure. Let's go." Neria crouches and starts crawling through the entrance with the mabari following close behind. Natia heads into the entrance and Duran follows, taking his shield off his back and pushing it in front of him because he wouldn't with it on.

The entrance was three times as long as a human was tall and fairly narrow. The walls had scratches where Duran's shield had scraped them and notches from where he and Natia tracked their kills. He looked ahead of him and saw Natia over his shield as he pushed it through the tunnel. _She sure knows how to make her armor fit snuggly…_ Natia turned her head and looked at him, smiling.

"My eyes are up here, you know," she says in a playful tone that only makes Duran smile.

He chuckles at this. _If only I met her in Orzammar. Things might have been different._ "If you're so worried about that, maybe you should have found a place with a bigger entrance," he replies in a similar tone.

"Ha! I knew I saved your ass for a reason."

"My good looks?"

"Well, that too."

"Uh, am I missing something here?" Neria asks, sounding a little confused and likely feeling awkward about Duran and Natia's flirting.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Natia replies looking back towards Neria before turning her head back towards Duran and giving him a wink. Duran smiles again, chuckling to himself as they come out of the tunnel one-by-one. When he exits the tunnel, he places his shield on his back and examines the group. There was an older man, obviously the leader of the group, with dark brown hair tied back into a ponytail. He noticed several scars on his face and slowly started to recognize the man. _Duncan?_

He looked towards the other man who was much younger and who the mabari walked up to. _I guess he's the owner._ The man had a couple of scars on his face and short brown hair. It looked like he had a sword and a shield on his back and was wearing chainmail armor. Though the man looked young, something about him suggested that he had experienced more than most others his age. And something else about him hinted towards something tragic that happened to him that he was trying to repress. Despite this, the man stood straight and proper, a trait that even Duran picked up from growing up as nobility.

Neria stood next to the only other woman in their group who had long blonde hair and somewhat pale skin. The way they stood near each other suggested that they were as close as sisters, which he could only guess at considering his history with his own siblings. The woman was tall, even for a human, and petite like Neria. She seemed somewhat suspicious of Duran, but curious at the same time. She also wore robes which were similar to Neria's, which indicated that they were both mages.

Duran glanced back at Duncan, whose eyes widened in realization. "Duran Aeducan?" he asks in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing Duncan," Duran replies.

"Wait. You know him?" Natia asks, turning to Duran.

"Yeah. He's the commander of the Wardens on the surface. He came to the palace a few times with his recruits. He wanted to recruit me, but my father wouldn't let him."

"Yet, here you are in the Deep Roads with no guards," Duncan says. "What happened?"

"It's complicated. I'll explain later."

"Well, at least you two know each other," says the younger man. "The rest of us are still strangers to one another. I'm Aedan Cousland. And you've already met Bones." Aedan pats his mabari on the head and the hound pants happily.

"I'm Solona," the human woman introduces herself. She turns to Natia and asks, "Who are you?"

"Natia. Why are you all in the Deep Roads?"

"They are my newest recruits," Duncan explains. "I brought them here so they can get experience fighting darkspawn."

"Well good luck with that. The darkspawn are leaving in droves. No idea where they are going."

"I know they are leaving, but some always stay behind during a Blight."

"A Blight?" Duran asks, surprised. "By the Stone, you can't be serious."

"I'm afraid I am."

"That means the darkspawn are heading to the surface, right?" Natia asks. "No wonder we've been seeing less of them."

"It also means an archdemon is leading them," Duran starts. "That means they're much more organized than usual."

"Exactly," Duncan confirms.

"Well, I guess we've got two options: go with you to fight the Blight, or stay here."

"I say we go," Natia says. "The surface has got to be better than this."

"I agree. Let's go." Duncan nods and they all start walking, leaving behind the cavern Duran and Natia had called 'home' for the last week or so. Neria started asking questions about how they survived for so long on their own and as they explained, Duran noticed Duncan trying to listen in. After explaining their survival, Solona and Aedan started asking about Orzammar and what it was like to live there. They were surprised at how different Duran and Natia's lives had been, seeming like complete opposites of each other.

Duran hadn't realized how much he missed Orzammar. Probably because he and Natia never felt the need to talk about it much. _Orzammar isn't home anymore, thanks to Bhelen. I've got to remember that._

After a few hours of walking, they found a way out of the Deep Roads that didn't involve heading through Orzammar and both Duran and Natia stopped to take it all in.

They came out of the Deep Roads into some forest and there were trees everywhere. Duran heard animals he never heard before and saw dozens of flying creatures flying from tree to tree. Then he looked up and saw the sky. It was breath-taking. So vast and blue and… empty. Duran had to fight the urge to grab the nearest tree to avoid falling into the sky. He looked over to Natia and she had an expression mixed with terror and awe as she looked at the sky. He placed a hand on her shoulder and it seemed to calm her down. She looked at him and smiled meekly, obviously somewhat shaken from the shock of living underground for her entire life and seeing the sky for the first time. He gave her a reassuring smile, despite that he was just as shaken as her. He looked toward Solona, Aedan, and Neria who all seemed confused why Duran and Natia where acting the way they were.

He ignored them. _They've lived on the surface their whole lives. They don't realize how hard this is for us._ He looked back toward Natia as Duncan explained about how difficult it is for a dwarf to come to the surface for the first time. She still seemed somewhat nervous and she gripped Duran's arm tightly. Duran let her, knowing it was much harder for her to adjust to the vastness of the surface than it was for him, though it was still hard for him too.

"Are you two ok?" Neria asks, seeming somewhat concerned. The question shakes both Duran and Natia from their bemusement, as they look at Neria.

"Yeah… Yeah," Duran replies. "It's just so… different."

"I guess it is a big change, huh?"

"It is. Where do we go from here?"

Neria looks to Duncan for an answer, obviously wondering the same question.

"You five are going to Ostagar to meet with King Cailan's army," Duncan explains. "I will be heading to the Brecillian Forest to find the Dalish and request their help."

"The Dalish?" Neria asks, sounding somewhat surprised.

"Oh great," Solona begins to complain. "Now she's going to ask to go."

Neria shoots a quick glare towards Solona before looking back towards Duncan. "Can I go with you, Duncan? I've always wanted to meet a Dalish clan. Please?" Neria begs.

Duncan chuckles a little before replying, "Well, since you asked so nicely, you can come with me."

A huge grin appears on Neria's face as she nearly squeals in delight. Duran and Natia look at each other, confused. _Why is she getting so excited over this?_ Duran shrugs and they both look back to Duncan. "Ok. Duran, Natia, and Solona, you follow Aedan to Ostagar," Duncan orders. "He knows the way." They nod as Duncan and Neria head off and disappear down a path. Aedan leads the rest of them the other direction, with Bones at his side.

"I have a question," Natia begins.

"What is it?" Solona asks.

"What are the Dalish?"


	5. A Stop in Lothering and a Tainted Mirror

The trip had been a long one, but Aedan, Solona, Duran, and Natia had arrived at a village just north of Ostagar called Lothering. Aedan had decided that everyone deserved a nice rest on an actual bed instead of the small cots they used when they camped, sleeping on the ground, so he booked four rooms at the tavern before heading off for a drink. Duran knew that Aedan was going to drown his sorrows, but he had no idea if that was how he usually got over things or if he didn't know what else to do. Duran had half a mind to join him, but decided against it. He still wasn't used to the surface and getting drunk was the last thing he wanted to do. Solona just went to her room and Natia wanted to look around the village a bit so Duran was left to his thoughts.

However, the only thing he could think about was how to get to Bhelen. _I'm exiled, and everyone probably thinks I'm dead. I mean, if Natia can help me get into Orzammar unnoticed after this Blight is dealt with, I could find Bhelen and kill him. Then again, the guards would have to let me in because I'm a Grey Warden. But, how would I get to him?_ He is shaken from his thoughts when he hears shouting downstairs followed by a couple barks and a growling noise. _Aedan already got into a fight? Better go break it up…_

Duran leaves his room and heads down the stairs, finding Aedan face-to-face with another man who seemed to be around his age. The man had short brown hair and was a bit taller than Aedan. He also looked fairly strong. Duran looked towards Aedan and knew immediately that he was drunk. He was swaying slightly as he stood and his hair was somewhat mussed up.

"Calm down," the man said, rather forcefully.

"You don't scare me," Aedan replied, slurring.

"What's going on?" Duran asked.

"He with you?" the man asked, looking towards Duran.

"Yeah."

"Good, maybe you can talk some sense into him."

"Tell me what happened."

"He was drinking and he started trying to pick a fight. Almost started one. Is he always like this when he drinks?"

"I don't know. I think this is the first time he's gotten drunk."

"What's going on?" Solona asks, walking down the stairs and yawning.

"Aedan's drunk."

"Drunk? Great."

"You… look familiar," the man starts, looking at Solona. "Have I seen you somewhere before?"

"Doubt it. I've been in the Circle all my life."

"I think I have a cousin who was taken to the Circle. What's your name?"

"Solona Amell. Why?"

"Solona? My mother told me about you. Aunt Revka's eldest."

"Your aunt? You mean… we're cousins?"

"Yes."

Solona looks at the man in disbelief and surprise. From what Aedan had said, the Amells were an important noble family in Kirkwall. This man sure didn't look or act like a noble. And this was the last place Duran expected any noble to be.

"Looks like you found your family, Solona," Duran states, knowing that she had no memory of her family and had no idea of her origins.

"Yeah… Looks like," Solona responds, still somewhat surprised.

* * *

Duncan and Neria had been climbing through the Brecillian Forest and Neria was wondering when they'd find the Dalish. They came to a small clearing and looked around. There were trees everywhere and no real way to know where they were going. But, somehow, Duncan knew exactly where to go. Neria looked a bit off to her right and noticed someone laying on the ground, shifting somewhat.

"Duncan, look," she said, pointing in the direction she was looking.

Duncan turned his head and saw the person laying on the ground. "One of the Dalish hunters," he said.

"How do you know?"

"I've had dealings with the Dalish before."

Neria and Duncan walk up to the hunter and examine him. The hunter had brown hair that went behind his ears and reached the base of his neck, and Dalish tattoos on his forehead that ran down his cheeks, stopping at his jaw. The hunter looked pale, too pale to be healthy, and he seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. Duncan's expression turned grim.

"What is wrong with him?" Neria asked, somewhat concerned.

"He's been tainted with the Blight," Duncan explains plainly.

"The Blight? We… we have to help him! Get him to a healer."

"The best chance he has to recover is to get him to his clan. But even then, it will only be temporary. He can't be cured."

"Then let's get him to his clan. If the taint can be pushed back, then he has a better chance to live than if we leave him here."

"I agree. Help me lift him."

Duncan and Neria grab the hunter's upper torso and Neria helps Duncan put the hunter on his shoulder. He turns and starts walking, Neria following behind and keeping an eye on the hunter in case he gets worse. They climb through the brush for a while before reaching the outskirts of a Dalish camp. There are three more hunters guarding the camp and they draw their bows, training them on Duncan and Neria.

"Hold, shem," one of the hunters starts. "State your business."

"We mean no harm," Duncan explains. "We found one of your hunters in the forest and he needs healing. Quickly."

"Let me see him."

Duncan turns so the hunter can see the face of the hunter slung over his shoulder. The hunter's eyes widen in shock and concern. "Theron?" the hunter gasps.

"Huh?" Neria asks, not understanding.

"That's his name. We need to get him to the Keeper. She can help him. Come with us." Duncan nods before following the hunters, with Neria following behind.

Neria looks around the camp as they walk through, fascinated with the sculptures spread throughout and the landships that Neria had heard about, but never saw. She noticed the other Dalish elves either taking quick glances or staring at them, likely curious about why a human and an elf are walking through the camp carrying one of their own. They reached a landship in the center of the camp and an elderly looking elf stood there, watching them. She had long grey hair and fairly pointed ears, even for an elf. She also had tattoos on her face like the rest of her clan, though they seemed simpler in design.

"What brings you here, Duncan?" she asked, seeming to know Duncan personally.

"We found this hunter in the forest," Duncan explains. "We thought you could heal him."

The elf examined the hunter on Duncan's shoulder and her face went from curious to shocked. "Thank you for bringing him here. I will begin healing him immediately." She nods to two of the hunters and they remove their comrade from Duncan's shoulder, carrying him into the landship. She nods to Duncan and he nods back before she follows the hunters.

Neria looks to Duncan and asks, "Will he be alright?"

"I do not know," Duncan responds.

"How did he get the Blight?"

"I'm not sure. We need to investigate."

"Where?"

"The area near where we found him. They may be darkspawn so we need to be careful."

"Ok."

They turn and head back to the clearing they found the hunter at. The area is darker, indicating that it is late. "We should set up camp. It is late."

"Aren't there wolves here, though? Couldn't we go back to the Dalish camp and rest there?"

"It is too late to be traveling through the brush. We will set up camp here and start our search in the morning."

Neria nods, reluctantly, and unpacks her cot and tent as Duncan does the same. She crawls into her tent and lays down, wrapping herself in her blanket. As she falls asleep, she can't help but wonder whether the hunter they found will be alright.

* * *

After Solona's 'cousin' introduced himself as Francis Hawke, Solona decided to go with him to meet his family, leaving Duran to take Aedan to his room to get some sleep. After Aedan went into his room with Bones, Duran noticed Natia walking towards him, seemingly curious.

"Did something happen to Aedan?" she asked.

"He got drunk and almost started a fight," Duran explained. "He's sleeping it off."

Natia laughs and says, "I'd have paid to see that!"

"Wasn't much to see, really."

"I guess I'll take your word for it. Solona still in her room?"

"No, why?"

"Just wondering. Where'd she go?"

"Apparently the guy Aedan almost got into a fight with was her cousin. She went with him to meet his family."

"I thought she didn't know who her family was."

"She didn't, but they apparently knew her."

"Huh. Go figure. Any word from Duncan?"

"Nothing, but I'm not surprised. What's the rest of this village like?"

"Better than Dust Town, that's for sure."

"I guess anywhere would be better than Dust Town, huh?"

"Ha! True. I did find something weird, though."

"What?"

"Some giant in a cage just outside the village."

"A 'giant'? You mean a Qunari?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Why is the Qunari in the cage?"

"I think he killed someone. I'm not sure though."

"Hmm. That is weird."

"It's getting dark out. I going to get a drink before I get some sleep. You coming with me?"

"Sure, why not?"

Natia smiled and they both headed back downstairs. The tavern was fairly empty with only a few humans standing around, drinking. They walked up to the bartender and ordered two mugs of ale. They headed toward a table and leaned up against it, not even trying to get into the chairs, as they were designed for humans, not dwarves. They clinked their mugs together and took a long gulp of the ale.

"Damn. These humans sure know how to make their ale," Duran says, impressed with how good the ale tasted.

"They sure do," Natia agrees. "I wonder how they make it."

"I have no idea. All I know is that I want more."

"Ha! Cheers!"

They clink their mugs together again and take another long gulp, slowly this time to savor the taste.

* * *

Duncan and Neria searched for two days before narrowing down the source of the taint to an old Tevinter looking ruin. It seemed like it ran underground and seemed ancient, possibly from before the Imperium conquered Arlathan, the original homeland of the elves.

They walked through the ruins and Neria saw Dalish artifacts along the walls, some of which were in pieces. As they progressed, they started to run into genlocks and their magic wielding brothers, genlock emissaries. They fought through them as they made their way through the ruins until they found a mirror of some sort in a relatively large chamber. The mirror was glowing a pinkish color and the frame had elegant designs on it, indicating ancient elven craftsmanship.

The whole idea of these ruins fascinated Neria. The Tevinter Imperium and elves of Arlathan living together? It was unheard of. What was in these ruins could help the Dalish recover much of the past if they could be studied.

Suddenly, a dozen genlocks appeared all around them. Neria turned to the six on the right and Duncan faced the six on the left. Neria electrocuted a genlock by summoning a lighting bolt from her staff and burnt another to a crisp by setting it aflame. The remaining four kept moving towards her as she froze a third genlock solid with a winter's grasp spell. The three that were left continued to approach her and she thought she heard combat somewhere else in the ruins. She used a sleep spell on the three genlocks in front of her and followed up with a fireball, killing them all. She turned around to find Duncan looking at her, smiling.

"Good work, Neria," Duncan said.

"Thank you Duncan," she replies. Then, three Dalish elves appeared in the doorway to the chamber. Two of them were hunters and the third was woman carrying a staff, indicating that she was a mage. She recognized one of the hunters as the one she and Duncan found a couple of days ago. He looked less pale, but not by much.

"Who are you?" the other hunter asks.

"Are… you the two who found me?" the first asks.

"Glad to see you're up and around," Neria said, trying to appear friendly.

"Huh, I don't remember you being an elf."

"You were barely conscious when we found you," Duncan explains. "It is understandable if you don't quite recognize us."

"I guess you're Duncan? I'm Theron if you didn't know."

"Nice to meet you Theron," Neria starts. "I'm Neria."

"I'm Fenarel," the other hunter introduces himself. "And that's Merrill," he continues, gesturing to the mage next to him.

"I don't see Tamlen anywhere," Merrill states.

"Who's that?" Neria asks.

"Me and Tamlen found these ruins a few days ago," Theron explains. "The Keeper said you found me alone in the forest. I wanted to come back and find him."

"We haven't seen anyone. What happened before you were knocked out?"

Theron explains how he and Tamlen found the ruins and made there way to the mirror, fighting through giant spiders and undead along the way. He tells them that Tamlen touched the mirror and he started seeing things in it. Then they were both thrown back by something and Theron was knocked unconscious.

"He is gone, Theron," Duncan states.

"What do you mean 'gone?'" Theron asks.

"Either he is dead and the darkspawn have taken his body, or he is alive and carrying the Blight. In which case, he will likely die soon if he hasn't already."

"You can't know for sure that he is dead."

"You got the taint from being near the mirror. Tamlen actually touched it. Even with the Keeper's magic, you barely survived. Without help, Tamlen is most likely dead already."

"I won't give up on him."

"There is nothing you can do for him. And you are still carrying the taint with you."

"But…" Theron sighs. "Fine. What do we do with the mirror?"

"It has been corrupted. It must be destroyed before the darkspawn will leave."

"But, what about everything we could learn from it?" Merrill asks.

"Anyone who studies the mirror risks getting the taint. It must be destroyed."

"What exactly is this mirror?" Fenarel asks.

"It is an ancient mirror the Tevinter Imperium used to communicate between cities. They created dozens of these mirrors."

"It's not Tevinter," Neria corrects.

"What do you mean?"

"The Imperium never made mirrors like this. And look at the designs on it. They don't match any Tevinter engravings I've ever seen. I think it was made by the elves of Arlathan."

"That makes sense," Merrill agrees. "All the other artifacts here are elven. Why wouldn't this?"

"Honestly, I don't care who made it," Theron starts, seeming annoyed at everyone's interest in the mirror. "Just destroy it and let's get out of here. This thing killed Tamlen and nearly did the same to me."

Duncan nods and draws his longsword, slashing it at the mirror and shattering it. He turns back towards Theron as he sheathes his blade and says, "We should return to your clan so I can talk to the Keeper about your cure."

"But, I thought-" Neria starts.

"We should hurry," Duncan interrupts.

They all turn and leave the ruins through a hole in the wall in the back of the chamber which leads to an incline made of massive roots that lead to the surface. As they walk back to the camp, Neria wonders why Duncan told her there wasn't a cure for the Blight and then told Theron there was. _Did he lie to me, or is he lying to Theron?_


	6. Meeting the King and The Last Recruit

_**A/N**_: Since school is in full swing now, updates will be somewhat erratic.

Aedan and the others, including Francis, arrive at Ostagar while Duncan and Neria recruit Theron before heading to Denerim. Sorry to those who were hoping for a female city elf Warden. Before I published the first chapter, I already had all the Wardens set up in my head, as well as who they would end up with. If you want to know more, just continue to follow the story as I add chapters.

Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

After Aedan had recovered from his hangover, he, Bones, Duran, Natia, Solona, and Francis headed off to Ostagar, which was a day's journey from Lothering. Francis had mentioned that he was going to head to Ostagar soon to join Cailan's army and Solona offered him to travel with them. He seemed impressed that Solona had been picked to join the Grey Wardens, as well as everyone else in the group.

Duran thought about how the group looked: two dwarves, three humans, one of which was a mage, and a mabari traveling together to go and fight darkspawn. He could tell that it was a strange mix, but the Wardens didn't discriminate.

As Solona told Francis about her time in the Circle with Neria and Natia asked Aedan questions about the surface, Duran wondered how many other Warden recruits there were. There had to be more than just the five of them. He knew there weren't many dwarves in the Wardens, especially after Kherek came through Orzammar for his Calling, but at least he wasn't the only dwarf to be recruited. He wasn't sure how many elves there were in the Wardens, but he knew that the majority of the order was human, so he doubted there were many. As for how many mages there were, Duran was pretty sure that Solona and Neria were the only ones, though he knew he could be wrong.

Then, he saw an ancient fortress appear over the horizon, which he assumed was Ostagar. They continued walking and eventually made it to the entrance, which had a tower behind and to the side of it. Duran saw a man clad in gold-plated armor approach them, flanked by several soldiers.

"King Cailan?" Aedan gasped, surprised.

"The one and only," Cailan replies, chuckling.

Aedan, Solona, and Francis all bowed in respect to their king, while Duran and Natia looked at each other, confused why a human king would great them personally.

Cailan rests his hand on Aedan's shoulder and says, "You don't need to bow. I may be king, but you can treat me as you would treat anyone else."

They all stand and Solona seems to blush slightly. "Where's Duncan?" Cailan asks, curious.

"He went to the Brecillian Forest to request help from the Dalish," Aedan replies. "We are his newest recruits." He glances to Francis and adds, "Except him. He's here to join the army."

"Well, allow me to be the first to welcome you all to Ostagar."

"Thank you, you majesty."

"You look familiar," Cailan starts, examining Aedan. "Have I seen you at the Landsmeet?"

"My father is Bryce Cousland."

"Ah, you must be his youngest. Do you know when he will arrive? Your brother, Fergus, is out in the field scouting the darkspawn horde."

"Uh, may I speak with you privately, your grace?"

"Of course." Cailan glances to his guards and says, "Will you excuse us for a moment?"

His guards nod as he and Aedan walk around a corner. Once they are out of earshot, Solona says, "Fergus Cousland is here? I can't wait to meet him!"

"Why?" Natia asks, confused.

"Oh, uh… no reason…"

"Looks like you have a thing for nobility," Francis teases.

"I'm not sure about that," Duran starts. "I was a noble in Orzammar before I was exiled."

"Correction: human nobility."

"Hey!" Solona complains.

"I'm pretty sure I saw you blushing in front of Cailan."

"Well… uh… Shut up." Natia laughs as Duran and Francis chuckle to themselves.

After a few minutes, Cailan and Aedan appear from around the corner and Aedan seems somewhat relieved, though Duran isn't exactly sure why. Cailan walks up to Duran and Natia before saying, "I suppose you two are from Orzammar? I've always wondered what it is like there."

"Completely different than being on the surface," Duran says. "The darkspawn are always a threat for us. Well, not as much now because they are flooding up here, but still."

"I've heard about that. You know, when we are done here, I will see about sending aid to Orzammar against the darkspawn. Maybe, if we work together, we could clear the Deep Roads of them for good."

"I… wasn't expecting that. Thank you."

"It's no trouble. It is the least I can do for the dwarves of Orzammar." Cailan turns to Solona and asks, "Are you from the Circle? We could always use another mage."

Solona starts blushing again, slightly more-so than before. "Yes, I'm from the Circle, but I'm not the only mage Duncan recruited, your majesty," she explains. "He also recruited my friend, Neria. She is with him right now."

"Is she from the Circle too? Well, that's great! The Wardens are in sore need of recruits and I'm sure that having two mages added to their ranks will help immensely."

"I'm… glad you think so, your grace."

"You're quite welcome. Well, I should return before Loghain sends out a search party." Cailan looks to Francis and adds, "The rest of the army is camped in the valley. You should head there now if you want to fight."

"Thank you, your majesty," Francis replies.

"Maybe you'll see me there later. I plan on having some drinks with some of the Wardens, and you are all more than welcome to join."

"Count me in," Natia declares. "The ale you humans brew is the best I have ever tasted."

"Same here," Duran jumps in.

"I suppose I'll see you there," Cailan replies, chuckling loudly. "Farewell to you all." Cailan and his guards turn around and cross the bridge to the camp in further into Ostagar.

Duran, Aedan, Natia, Francis, and Solona all look at each other, wondering where they should go, the army's camp in the valley, or the camp on the other end of the bridge.

"I guess I should head to the valley and join the army," Francis states. "Maybe I'll find Carver there."

"I'll go with you," Solona says. "I'd like to meet him."

Francis nods and they both start walking the direction Cailan went, across the bridge.

"I'm going to find the quartermaster," Aedan says. "Maybe I can get some new armor."

"I'll come with you," Duran starts. "I could use a new sword and shield. What about you, Natia?"

"I guess I'll come with you too," she states. "Maybe I can get some poisons or reagents. Something tells me we're going to need them."

They walk across the bridge and head to the quartermaster, Bones sticking close to Aedan. As they walked, Duran couldn't help but wonder where Duncan and Neria were, and when they would finally arrive. He also wondered how many more recruits they might find.

* * *

Duncan had been talking to the Keeper for a long time. During that time, Theron told Neria about the Dalish as she told him about the Circle. He didn't seem to understand why humans felt the way they did about magic and, frankly, Neria didn't fully understand it either.

She also talked with Merrill about the ancient spells the Dalish held on to. The spells fascinated Neria. They were similar to the primal spells she knew and used, but at the same time, they were like nothing she ever heard of. She had read that the Dalish had spells that they never shared to anyone outside their clans, though she assumed it was because most of the people who wanted to learn were humans. Or shem'len, as the Dalish called them.

She learned more than a few Dalish terms and words, such as durgen'len, which meant 'Children of the Stone' just as shem'len meant 'quick children'. The elvish language also fascinated her, because she had never heard anyone speak it before and there was little mention of it in the books in the Circle's libraries. She wished that she could join the Dalish more than she ever had because that she was standing in one of the clans and talking to them.

Eventually, Duncan and the Keeper, Marethari, walked over to them, grabbing Theron's attention. Neria looked to Duncan curiously, wondering what kind of 'cure' he had in mind.

"So?" Theron asked, curious as to what his cure would be. "Can you cure me?"

"Yes, though it requires that you leave your clan," Duncan explains.

"What? Why?"

"The Grey Wardens have a cure, but this isn't an act of charity. If you want to be cured, you must join."

"What if I don't want to join the Wardens?"

"Da'len, the taint will not go away," the Keeper starts. "If you stay, I'm not sure how long my magic can keep it at bay. If you go, you will be cured, but you will have to dedicate your life to fighting the Blight." Neria could tell the Keeper was choosing her words carefully so she wouldn't confuse her and Duncan, as they didn't know much elvish.

Theron was quiet for a long time, obviously weighing his choices. After a while, he finally said, "Can I at least stay for Tamlen's funeral?"

"Of course," Duncan says. "But afterwards you must say your goodbyes. We have a long trip ahead."

* * *

The funeral wasn't as long as Neria had expected. A seed was planted for Tamlen and one of the older elves said last rites for him in elvish. Theron told her that if they had Tamlen's body, he would have been buried with the seed planted on his grave. The thought of that amazed her. It was a beautiful funeral for an amazing people.

Humans just cremated the bodies of the dead and either spread the ashes, or kept them in an urn. The dwarves, from what Duran had said, entombed their dead so they would 'return to the Stone,' though casteless dwarves, like Natia, didn't receive a funeral at all. Natia never said what happened to the dead casteless dwarves, so Neria had no idea whether or not they actually did anything.

After the funeral, Theron said his goodbyes to the clan and followed Duncan and Neria. Theron said the clan was going to head north to try and get away from the Blight, though he didn't know where.

Duncan said they were going to stop at Denerim before they headed to Ostagar. He wanted to find as many recruits as he could before returning, though Neria and Theron had their doubts about him finding a recruit in Denerim, of all places.

The trip would take almost a week, if they were lucky. If they were unlucky, they would get lost in the forest. Fortunately, Theron knew the Brecillian forest well, so they wouldn't get lost easily.

* * *

After a day of climbing through the brush, they emerged from the forest and found a road that ran north, to Denerim.

Neria wondered whether or not Solona and the others made it to Ostagar by now. They probably did, and by now, Solona was probably already passed out in a tent.

That got Neria to start wondering how many elves there were in the Wardens. As of right now, she only knew of two: herself and Theron. There may be more at Ostagar, but Neria would have to get there before she would know for sure.

* * *

As they continued to head north, Neria could feel the weather get a bit colder. If she got too cold, she would summon a flame that was big enough the keep her warm, but small enough that it wouldn't burn her or anyone around her. And when they camped, she would light the fire after Theron grabbed some nearby sticks to use as firewood.

Theron thought it was odd for her to use her magic so openly. When she asked why, he said that Keepers rarely used their magic in public and he brought up the possibility of someone thinking she was an apostate. She explained that the Templars didn't usually mess with the Wardens, which was why she was able to join in the first place.

* * *

The trip was a long one, but they eventually reached Denerim. Oddly enough though, when they arrived, Duncan decided to go to the alienage. This confused Neria, because she knew that the elves in the alienages weren't allowed to have weapons of any type, so she had no idea how Duncan would find any recruits there. When they entered the alienage, there seemed to be preparations for some type of celebration all over.

Neria looked over to a huge tree that grew in the middle of the alienage an admired it for a moment before she noticed two elves approaching them. They both were dressed fairly well, especially considering where they lived. One had short, light brown hair that was somewhat longer than Aedan's and he seemed like the stronger of the two. The other looked somewhat similar, though his hair was shorter and a darker shade of brown. The elf with light brown hair seemed to look at Duncan with a type of distrust Neria had never seen before. She actually felt intimidated by him, despite the fact that he was unarmed.

"You're not welcome here," the elf said as he approached, focusing on Duncan.

"We did not mean to intrude," Duncan says calmly. "We are simply passing through."

"This is a private event. I suggest you leave. Now."

Neria almost turned to leave before Duncan said, "He keeps calm even when faced with three unknown and armed adversaries. Interesting."

Neria and Theron both looked at each other, uncertain what to do. The two elves also looked at each other, though they were more confused than anything.

Then, an older elf approached Duncan, but he seemed to be much more welcoming.

"Is that their Keeper?" Theron asks Neria, whispering.

"City elves don't have Keepers," Neria explains, whispering back. "I think it's their elder."

"Ah, Duncan, my old friend," the older elf says, arms open wide.

"Valendrian," Duncan starts, smiling. "It is good to see you."

"You know this human?" the dark brown haired elf asks, confused.

"Yes, Soris," Valendrian confirms. "Duncan is the commander of the Grey Wardens here in Fereldan."

"Then, you two are Wardens, too?" the other elf asks Neria and Theron, seeming slightly less hostile.

"Yes," Neria replies, relieved that Duncan was known here. "I'm Neria."

"And I'm Theron," Theron introduces himself. "Who are you?"

"Darrian," the elf replies. "I didn't realize that elves could become Grey Wardens."

"Of course," Duncan responds. "In fact, Garahel, the Warden who ended the last Blight four hundred years ago, was one."

Darrian seemed somewhat impressed.

"What brings you here, Duncan?" Valendrian asks.

"I am looking for recruits before I return to Ostagar."

"Ah, I should have guessed. Well, you remember Adaia, correct? Darrian is her son."

"You knew my mother?" Darrian asks, shocked.

"Yes," Duncan replies. "Last time I was here, I tried to recruit her. She was a very skilled warrior. I trust she trained you?"

"Yes, she did. She taught me everything she knew before she died."

"I am sorry to hear that. She was a unique woman."

"Thank you. Now, if you will excuse us, Soris and I have a wedding to attend."

"A wedding?" Neria asks. "Who's getting married?"

"Me and Darrian," Soris explains. "But, my bride looks like a horse…"

"She doesn't look that bad, Soris," Darrian says.

"Easy for you to say."

"What? Are you jealous?"

"Uh, maybe you two should hurry up and find your brides," Neria suggests.

"You know what? You're right. The sooner the wedding is over, the less chance there is of a human screwing it up." Darrian and Soris turn and walk away, talking about something completely unrelated.

"He really doesn't like humans, huh?"

"Life here is hard," Valendrian starts, "and most humans try to keep us down. Darrian wants us all to leave Denerim and try to find the Dalish so we can be free of humans entirely."

"Well, why don't you?"

"Nearly everyone here has spent their entire lives without leaving the city. Many think that the Dalish are a myth."

"We aren't a myth," Theron speaks up.

"I suppose you are Dalish?"

"Yes, and any clan would be more than happy to take you all in."

"Then why did you leave your clan?"

Theron is silent for a moment. Then, he says, "It's… complicated. I didn't really want to leave, but I didn't have much of a choice."

"Ah, I suppose I shouldn't pry any further, then. I should oversee the wedding. Will you attend, Duncan?"

"I don't want to intrude," Duncan replies. "And as Darrian said: it is a private event. Though, I wish to talk to him afterwards."

"Of course. Farewell." Valendrian turns and heads to the growing crowd that is gathering around the corner.

* * *

Darrian and Soris were next to the platform waiting for their Hahren, Valendrian, to finish talking to the Grey Wardens. Then Shianni walked up to them, concerned.

"Is something wrong, Shianni?" Darrian asks.

"I'm worried the Vaughn will come back any minute," she started. "Probably with some guards."

"Don't worry. He is probably too embarrassed that he was knocked out by an elf. And a woman at that."

Shianni half glares at Darrian, unsure whether or not he was insulting her.

"You know that I wasn't trying to insult you, Shianni. I just meant that it would embarrass him that much more since you were the one to knock him out. I just wish it happened sooner and that you hit him harder."

Shianni laughs before saying, "Maybe I could have hit him harder. I just hope he doesn't show up."

"You could always hit him with another bottle."

Shianni laughs again before Valendrian summons Darrian and Soris to the platform. They walk up the stairs and stand next to their brides before the Chantry priest begins her speech, thanking the Maker and praising Him for the opportunity of the wedding.

Darrian rolls his eyes, as he despised humans and the Chantry. He ignored the Maker and refused to follow any human religion, preferring to be considered unenlightened than to worship any human god.

Then, he noticed a dozen guards approaching, lead by Vaughn and his cronies. _Blast. The one time I could really use a blade._


	7. Darrian's 'Other Side'

**_A/N:_** This chapter gets a bit gory near the end, so if gore bothers you, skip to the dialogue at the end.

* * *

Theron was asking Neria about what she knew about the alienages when they heard some shouting followed by some sort of scuffle and a few screams. They looked in the direction the sounds came from and realized it was the area where the wedding was taking place.

Neria's first instinct was to find out what happened, but before she could move, Theron was already ahead of her, rounding the corner and disappearing. Neria chased after him and, after she rounded the corner, saw that Darrian and Soris were laying on the platform, unconscious. As she made her way through the crowd to the platform, she noticed that some of the women were missing. _That's weird. What happened?_

She climbed up onto the platform and saw that Soris had already come to. She walked over to Darrian and shook him awake. As he came to, his hand rose to his head and he winced in pain. He looked around quickly, as if looking for something or someone that was no longer there.

"What happened?" he asked, seemingly panicked. "Where are the women?"

"What do you mean?" Theron asked.

"Where's Vaughan?"

"Who?" Neria asked, not understanding what was going on.

"He took them to the estate," Valendrian explained to Darrian, obviously concerned.

"What happened?" Duncan asked as he approached.

"Vaughan came here and claimed he had the right to take the women. He had guards with him so we couldn't stop him."

"If only I had a blade," Darrian started, furious. "I could have gutted them all!"

"Maybe I can help," Duncan said.

"How?"

"While I can't help you storm the estate, I can provide you weapons to fight with." Duncan reached into his pack and produced a small, wooden buckler shield, handing it to Darrian who gave it to Soris. Duncan handed his longsword to Soris before pulling another out of his pack, handing it to Darrian.

"It's no greatsword, but I suppose it'll have to do."

"You prefer greatswords? Hmm… Here." Duncan finds a greatsword in his pack and gives it to Darrian, who hands back the longsword. He examines the blade intently, testing its balance and edge. He handled the large and heavy blade as if it were a regular longsword, holding it with one hand.

"An impressive blade."

"How are we going to get in?" Soris asked.

"I can take you to the servants' entrance," an elf speaks up. "But we have to hurry."

"Here," Neria starts, reaching into her pack. "Take these poultices. You'll probably need them."

Darrian nods in thanks as he takes the poultices and puts them into his pockets. He turns to the elf who mentioned the servants' entrance and he and Soris follow her to the palace. Neria wanted to help. She felt like it was the right thing to do. But, she couldn't reveal herself to be a mage in front of so many people. Even if she was a Grey Warden. She just hoped that Darrian and Soris would be alright.

* * *

Darrian and Soris took the servants' entrance and ended up in a storage room near, what they were told, was the mess for the guard. Darrian hoped that the guards were all on duty, though, with his luck, they could all be having lunch at that moment.

"Are we really going to do this?" Soris asked, nervous.

"We have to get Shianni and the others back," Darrian replied. "And when we find Vaughan, leave him to me." _I'm going to gut that bastard if it's the last thing I do._

Darrian looks around and finds a small knife. After examining it, he determined that while it wasn't designed for combat, he could use it as if it were a throwing knife, placing it in his other pocket, point down. Then, he walks up to the door and listens, hearing some talking in the mess and the clatter of silverware on plates and mugs on tables. _Damn._

He slowly opened the door, motioning Soris to follow quietly. They entered the mess and Darrian closed the door as quietly as he could. They managed to get three steps without being notice before one of the off-duty guards called them over. _We're screwed._

They walk over cautiously and Darrian examines the group of guards. There were four of them: one with a greatsword sheathed on his back, another with a longsword and dagger, the third with a longsword and shield, and the last with a crossbow. They were all in armor, but not the standard issue armor Darrian normally saw. He examined their armor and located the weakest points, the joints. None of them wore helmets, so Darrian would have a better chance at killing them with his 'borrowed' knife.

They stop just out of arms reach of the closest guard before he says, "What are you doing with those weapons?"

_ Sod it._ "This," Darrian says as he grabs the knife out his pocket and throws it at the guard with the longsword and shield. The rest of the guards look in shock as their comrade falls, wrapping his hands around the knife that is lodged in his throat as he chokes on his own blood. Darrian seizes the moment and grabs his greatsword, slashing down and to the left across the closest guard's chest. The force of the blow causes the guard to twist and slam into the ground on his side. Darrian follows through, spinning around and stepping toward the guard with the longsword and dagger, whom he kills with a swing up and to the left, catching the guard under the ribs. The force of that blow lifts him up and sends him into a half back flip, landing on the table behind him on his stomach.

The last guard recovers and fumbles around with his crossbow, trying to prime it an load a bolt before he too is killed. Darrian is faster though, running to the first guard he killed, leaning forward to grab the knife as he runs. He spins and releases the knife, sending it flying into the skull of the final guard. He drops to his knees before falling flat, dropping his crossbow. Darrian turns around to see Soris holding his longsword in one hand, shield in the other, and looking at him as though he just did a magic trick.

"What?" Darrian asks as he places his greatsword on the table and strips one of the guards on their armor.

"You killed them all before they could react," Soris replied, mouth hanging open somewhat.

"Had to kill them quick or they would have alerted all the guards in the estate."

"But, won't they be on high alert when the find the bodies?"

"That won't be for a while. By then, if we're unlucky, we find Shianni and the others and get them home."

"And if we're lucky?"

"I'll have Vaughan's head for a trophy."

Darrian finished stripping one on the bodies, pulling the armor on and sheathing his greatsword. He grabbed the shield off of the first guard he killed and examined it. It was a heavy shield made out on metal, bearing the Denerim crest. He handed it to Soris before walking over to another body and stripping the armor off, handing the armor to Soris who, hesitantly, pulls it on. He yanked the knife out of the skull of the last guard he killed and placed it under his belt. As the armor was made for humans, it was loose and somewhat uncomfortable to wear.

They left the mess and, after a half hour and fighting through dozens of guards, found a room with three guards surrounding a dead elven woman. _Please don't be Shianni._

The guards didn't seem to notice Darrian and Soris enter, because they were talking about the rest of the women and joking that the one at their feet actually looked attractive.

That was as much a Darrian could listen to, unsheathing his greatsword and slicing high in a wide arch. The swing decapitated two of the guards and sliced the throat of the third. When they dropped to the floor, Darrian sheathed his blade and checked the body of the woman on the floor. He saw that it was Nola and he breathed a sigh of relief. He soon hated himself for it though, putting Shianni ahead of the rest of the women.

When Soris realized that it was Nola on the floor, he glared toward the door as if he was ready to bash it down and kill any human inside. Darrian was one step ahead of him, kicking the door in and storming into the room. He saw Vaughan and his cronies surrounding Shianni, who was on the floor, beaten. Darrian glared at Vaughan and he seemed to freeze up under his gaze, obviously intimidated.

"What the- How'd you get in here?!" shouts one of them.

"We'll teach you to break in here!" the other shouts.

"Stop, you idiots!" Vaughan orders, his buddies following his command. "They're covered in enough blood to fill a tub. You realize what that means?"

"Uh…," the first one says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Vaughan rolls his eyes and looks at Darrian, trying to seem imposing. "Look, I know you are angry that I took the women. But, every man has his price. You leave now and I'll forget about this little incident. I'll even throw in a few sovereigns."

"**Now** you want to talk?"

"I know when I am outmatched. If we fight, I might be killed. And when my father finds out it was a knife-ear that killed me, he will send the guards to purge your pustule of a village."

Darrian's rage was mounting with every word Vaughan spoke in his self-righteous and condescending tone. He didn't try to hide it. His glare intensified and his hands balled tightly into fists. So tightly that his knuckles cracked loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. He saw Vaughan and his friends tense up, obviously realizing that they pissed off the wrong elf. Shianni even seemed to freeze up, likely shocked at the immense amount of anger Darrian was demonstrating. He was only seconds away from releasing that rage on the three humans in front of him.

* * *

Shianni froze as she watched Darrian glare at Vaughan. She had never seen him so enraged. It was almost as if something had snapped inside him. She knew he would never hurt her, but she was still frozen in fear of Darrian. She could see it in his eyes, the only thing on his mind was murder, and that's what seemed to terrify her the most. She glanced at Soris, who was behind Darrian, and it was looked like he was almost as terrified of Darrian as she was. Her gaze returned to Darrian, who had started to tremble with rage. She knew it was only seconds before he would launch himself at her captors and rip them apart. She had to move before then, or she would be in the middle of a blood bath.

* * *

Darrian's rage was still building… and he let it. His mind raced with everything that angered him: how he and his kin were oppressed, how the Templars would take away anyone who had magic, the constant poverty his people lived in, the abuse, elves being kidnapped and made slaves, nobles like Vaughan who thought they owned them, the fact that humans considered themselves superior to them, and so many other injustices. He wanted to let that anger fuel him. He knew that, eventually, that rage would build until he'd lose control and attack. He didn't know when and he didn't know what he'd do. All he knew was that when he was done, Vaughan, his cronies, and every other human in sight would be in pieces.

That was when he noticed the utter fear in Shianni's eyes. _Vaughan did this to her. He will be the first to pay for how we've been treated._ Shianni seemed to force herself to look away before she started crawling, trying to get out of the way. The room was silent until one of Vaughan's buddies noticed Shianni crawling. He kicked her in her side, hard, causing her to roll over on her back, gripping the area where the blow landed.

That was what finally threw Darrian over the edge. He practically ripped his greatsword off of his back. He focused on Shianni's captors, blocking out everything else, including the screams of terror that escaped their mouths.

He charged at Vaughan, who barely dodged out of the way as he thrust the sword forward. He continued his charge and his blade ran through the first of Vaughan's followers until the hilt hit his stomach. He lifted the man up above his head, his sword impaling him. Then, he turned and swung the blade towards the ground, sending the man's limp body flying into the wall with a resounding 'thump', his blood splattering on impact.

He turned to face the other man, who was trembling in terror as he held his longsword. Darrian then charged at him while the man slowly backed up. Darrian swung straight through the man's abdomen, cleaving him in two before thrusting into the man's chest. He releases the blade and turns to Vaughan, who is frozen in absolute horror at Darrian's viciousness. Vaughan moved his mouth as if he was saying something, but Darrian heard nothing. Only one thought was running through his mind now: vengeance. He marched toward Vaughan, blocking out everything else in the room. It was almost as if it was just him and Vaughan.

Vaughan tried to slice across Darrian's chest, but Darrian caught the blade in his hand. Vaughan's eyes widened at the realization that he was powerless to stop what was to come next.

Darrian ripped the blade out of Vaughan's hand, which also pulled him forward, allowing Darrian to wrap his hand around Vaughan's throat. Vaughan's hands quickly rose up as he desperately clawed at Darrian's gloved hand, trying to get away. Darrian tighten his grip punched Vaughan repeatedly in the jaw, feeling the bone crack under the force of the blows. When Vaughan went unconscious after the third blow, Darrian threw him to the floor and jumped on top on him, pounding on his head. With each blow, he slowly lost feeling in his arms.

He had no idea how many times he had already hit Vaughan and he didn't care. After a while he felt a hand try to pull him off Vaughan. He twisted away and continued with his onslaught before he felt himself being flipped over. The sudden motion dragged him out of his rage and the rest of his senses returned. He saw Soris standing over him, he heard the whimpers of the women on the other side of the room, saw the blood on the walls and floor, and he felt his muscles start to scream in pain from exertion, his hands doing the same from the punishment he had dished out. He looked around the room: the first man he had killed lay on the ground at an angle that suggested that his spine was broken, the second was in two pieces with Darrian's greatsword sticking straight up out of his chest. He looked at Vaughan and saw that he was beaten to a pulp, an indentation filled with a deep red mass of meat where his face had been. He lifted up his hands and stared at them. They were soaked and dripping red. _Blood._ He returned his gaze to Soris who just stared at him, not knowing what to do.

"What… What happened?" Darrian asked. His rage had been so intense that all he remembered was Shianni being kicked, then… nothing.

"What do you mean 'what happened?'" Soris responded, incredulous. "You lost it!"

"You mean… **I** did this?"

"Yes!"

Darrian looked down at his hands again. He ripped the gloves off and threw them across the room before bringing his hands to his face, lowering his head on the stone floor. _Shit._

After a minute, he moved his hands off his face and said, "Help me up."

He reached up and Soris grabbed his hand, pulling him up. Darrian winced as his hand roared with pain.

Once he was standing, he looked down at his armor and saw that it was covered in blood. His first thought was to get the armor off, which he did, throwing the pieces where he had tossed the gloves. He walked over and grabbed his greatsword, yanking it out of the body it was lodged in. He looked at the blade and saw that it, just like the armor he just removed, was covered in blood. He grabbed a cloth that wasn't soaked in blood and wiped the blade down before sheathing it. He was suddenly very exhausted, but he forced himself to keep standing.

He walked over to Shianni and knelt down before asking, "Are you alright?"

"I… I'm fine," she started. "I just… want to go home."

"Can you walk?"

"I think so." Shianni tried to get up, but she collapsed to her left. Before she could say anything, Darrian pulled her arm over his shoulders and wrapped his arm around her waist, helping her stand.

Darrian looked toward the rest of the women and said, "Head back to the alienage and find somewhere to hide. We'll catch up."

They nodded and rushed out of the room. Then Soris asked, "Shianni, did they…?"

"No," she replied. "Let's just go."

Soris and Darrian nod before they start heading back to the servants' entrance, helping Shianni on the way.

_ At least Vaughan is dead._


	8. Conscripted to Fight the Blight

Despite being able to return to the alienage without incident, Darrian was still on edge. He knew that the guards would eventually come looking for him and that he would be hanged. He wasn't afraid of dying, he was afraid of not being able to defend his home, and what would happen if he died. He didn't want the guards to tear the alienage apart looking for him and he didn't want to see his friends and family suffer because he lost control of himself when he finally found Vaughan. Worst of all, he was afraid that if he lost control again, he could end up hurting those he cared about. That was what terrified him most. He needed to learn how to control that part of him. The only solution he could think of was to not be around humans, though he saw no way to do that short of leaving Denerim to find the Dalish. That wasn't an option, because he couldn't leave his people behind. He didn't know what to do.

As they made their way through the alienage, they saw Neria, Theron, and Valendrian walking up to them, Neria and Theron eyeing them quizzically.

"Thank the Maker you're safe!" Valendrian exclaimed in relief. "When the rest of the women got here without you three I feared the worst."

"We're fine. But…" Darrian trailed off. He wasn't sure how to explain what happened in the estate.

"What?" Theron asked, raising an eyebrow.

Darrian looked at the ground, somewhat ashamed.

Valendrian turned to Theron and Neria before saying, "Could you two help Shianni home? I need to speak with Darrian and Soris."

Theron nodded and carefully lifted Shianni's arm off Darrian's shoulders and rested it across his own, Neria helping her walk as they left. Valendrian looked back to Darrian once Theron and Neria were out of earshot before asking, "What happened?"

"I… killed Vaughan," Darrian explained in a low tone.

"You what?! Do you realize what will happen when the guards find out it was you?!"

"Yes, but it was either that or leave without Shianni and the others. He tried to bribe me!"

Valendrian rubbed his temple with his thumb and fore finger. "Then… I suppose he gave you no choice?"

Soris gave Darrian a look that said, _Go ahead. Tell him you lost control._

"I… uh… I lost control. One of Vaughan's cronies kicked Shianni and I lost it. The next thing I remember is Soris standing over me and… blood everywhere."

"Maker's breath…" Valendrian gasped, shocked.

"I know the guards will show up soon. I won't try to hide from them, because that would make things worse."

"But, they'll execute you," Soris started, concerned. "And I broke in to the estate with you."

"You didn't kill Vaughan. I did. I'll take full responsibility."

As if on cue, a large group of guards entered the alienage and approached the three of them. One guard, not wearing a helmet and leading the group, approached them.

"Is there something wrong?" Valendrian asked, pretending to be oblivious to what happened in the estate.

"The arl's son and two other nobles were brutally murdered in the estate, along with the guards stationed there," the guard stated plainly. "We were informed that there were two elves who broke into the estate and left a while later, minutes before the arl's son was found dead."

"I have no idea who would have done such a thing."

Darrian was taken aback by what Valendrian said. He didn't want anyone covering for him, especially when he was willing to take full responsibility.

"Do not lie to me. Tell me who did this."

"I did."

Darrian looked toward Soris in shock. He didn't want anyone to die for him because of what he did. "No. It was me," Darrian admitted. "I killed Vaughan."

"Well, who is it?" the guard asked, annoyed.

Soris opened his mouth to speak, but Darrian placed his hand over it, looking at him and shaking his head. Darrian removed his hand and Soris shut his mouth, looking at Darrian as if he was dying right in front of him, which he might as well be.

"Me. I broke in and killed Vaughan."

"You do realize you will be hanged for this, correct? I would like a reason why."

"It doesn't matter. I will be hanged no matter my reasons." He wanted to tell the guard about Vaughan taking the women. He couldn't though, because he felt like he'd be betraying Shianni if he did.

"Take him into custody."

"Wait."

The voice came from behind him. Darrian, Soris, and Valendrian all turned around to see Duncan approaching them, flanked by Theron and Neria.

"What now?"

"I wish to conscript this elf to be a Grey Warden." He gestured to Darrian and Darrian looked at him, dumbfounded. He never expected a **human** to try to save his life. Never mind that human being a Grey Warden who wanted to recruit him. _Is he serious?_

"I don't think so. Someone must pay for the murder of the arl's son."

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice."

"What are you doing?" Darrian asked Duncan, utterly confused why he was doing this.

"I am performing the Right of Conscription to save your life. However, this means that you must become a Warden."

"But, why?"

"Because I believe you have the makings of a Grey Warden."

"How so?"

"You charged into the arl's estate to save the women from Vaughan without concern for your own life. You even fought through all the guards in the estate and killed them all. Not many could, or would, do that."

Darrian was stunned. He was actually being complimented by a human, something he had never expected. Granted, he also hadn't expected to break into the arl's estate, but he did anyway.

He was at a loss for words. A human had given him and Soris weapons to save Shianni and the other women when he could have walked away. And now, that same human was trying to save his life by recruiting him into the Grey Wardens. _I must be dreaming. No human would ever do this for an elf…_ And yet, there were two elves standing in front of him, both of them Wardens.

"Are you alright?" Neria asked.

"Uh… yeah," Darrian replied. "Just… shocked, really."

"Will you accept?" Duncan asked, getting Darrian's attention.

"What will happen to Soris?"

"I do not know. I am only recruiting you. I have no control over what will happen to him."

Darrian looked to Valendrian, then Soris before asking, "Do you think I should?"

"Go ahead," Soris replied, sounding almost relieved that Darrian had the option. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." Soris winked at Darrian and he smiled.

He looked back to Duncan and said, "Can I say my farewells before I go?"

"Of course," Duncan replied.

The guard turned around and stormed off, muttering something incoherent as he motioned for his men to follow him out of the alienage.

* * *

Neria smiled when the guards left, allowing Darrian to join the Wardens and preventing him from being executed just because he saved the women from a corrupt noble. Darrian and Soris then headed further into the alienage so Darrian could say his goodbyes.

It was bittersweet, though. Darrian's wedding had been ruined and both brides, along with the bridesmaids and Shianni, had being taken by force. And now that they were back, Darrian had to join the Wardens or face the hangman's noose. This meant that he had to leave, with little chance of returning.

She then thought that it was similar to how she, Solona, and Theron were recruited. They all had to leave the only world they ever knew, or die. Of course, she and Solona didn't face death, they faced the Rite of Tranquility instead, which was a fate worse than death to Neria.

Then she thought of what would have happened to Duran and Natia if they hadn't been recruited in the Deep Roads. At first glance of their camp, it seemed like they were doing quite well, despite the threats they faced. Natia had, apparently, saved Duran's life the day he was exiled from Orzammar, though Neria never knew why he was exiled in the first place. Natia, however, explained it in two words: 'dwarven politics.' Neria had no idea what she meant, but she didn't want to pry. Solona had asked Duran several times about why he was exiled, but he tended to dodge the question.

Then there was Aedan. He never said anything about how he was recruited, though Neria could tell that the memory must have been painful. Sometimes, when Neria couldn't sleep, she would see him sitting on the ground, staring blankly in the distance as if he was somewhere else. She felt sorry for him. She had contemplated going over to talk to him, but she didn't know what to say. She was worried that she might say the wrong thing without meaning to.

She still wasn't entirely sure why Darrian was so shocked when Duncan said he wanted to recruit him. Maybe he hadn't expected to become a Grey Warden? Maybe he never thought Duncan would try to save his life? Maybe he never expected a human to help him? She had no idea what the reason was. Valendrian said that Darrian really didn't like humans, but Neria had no idea why. Apparently, from what Shianni had told them, humans had killed his mother and tried to force themselves on the women from time to time. Most of them spat on the elves and called them knife-ears or trash. The more she heard, the more she realized how lucky she had been, growing up in the Circle, were every mage was equal, regardless of race.

She couldn't believe how the elves here were able to deal with all they had to go through. If she had grown up in an alienage, she would have run away before she turned fifteen. It was horrible what they had to go through day-to-day. Yet, they managed to make the most of it, despite the challenges. She admired their will, almost to the point of jealousy. She knew she wouldn't be able to handle the challenges they faced. She started to realize how lucky mages actually were. While they were pretty much locked up in a thinly veiled prison, they were provided room and board, treated as actual people, never looked down upon, and they never went hungry. She realized that as much as the Circle 'protected' the world from mages, it protected mages from the world. She still thought it wasn't right, but she realized that, in some ways, it might be a good thing.

She shook herself from her thoughts when she saw Darrian approaching them, alone. She realized that Theron was eyeing her curiously from the corner of his eye. She turned to look at him and he shifted his gaze to Darrian. She wondered why he was looking at her. Had she done something worth noticing? Was she so lost in her thoughts that he thought something was wrong?

She pushed those questions from her mind as Darrian said his final goodbyes to Valendrian before turning to Duncan, indicating he was ready to go. Duncan nodded and they all turned to leave the alienage, Darrian looking back over his shoulder as they walked.

* * *

They had been traveling for about a week when they got to a town called Lothering. It was a small village, but it was crowded with Templars, villagers, and Chasind, not to mention the Qunari in a cage on the outskirts of the village. The Templars seemed to worry Neria, Darrian observed.

After they had left Denerim, she told him that she was a mage from the Circle who had been recruited, along with her friend Solona, who was human. When he asked how many other recruits there were, she told him that there was another human named Aedan Cousland. He knew the name. The Cousland family ruled Highever, which was notorious amongst the elves for the horrible treatment of the elves in the alienage. At the time, he thought that it figured that there were humans being recruited as well.

There were also two dwarves that they found in the Deep Roads who were both exiled from Orzammar a week apart from each other. Duran and Natia, were the names. He had never met a dwarf from Orzammar, though he had heard that the dwarf merchant in the lower markets, Gorim, was from there. Warrior caste too, though he wasn't sure what that meant to a dwarf. He couldn't help but smile at the fact that only two humans had been recruited, as opposed to three elves, including him.

He had heard that there were dwarven warriors called Berserkers who channeled their anger at their foes, which let them fight harder and survive wounds that would normally be fatal… at least, for a short time. Maybe Duran or Natia knew how to channel anger like that and could teach him. He needed to learn to control that part of him, to harness it, contain it for when he got into a fight. He didn't want to lose control again. The aftermath of him losing control in Vaughan's room haunted him. Not because he didn't want to kill Vaughan- he wanted to stick his head on a pike and keep it as a trophy- but, because he basically tore Vaughan and his friends apart. The shear carnage was what got to him the most. He never thought that anything could push him that far. And yet, the horrified looks on the faces of everyone else in the room haunted his thoughts.

Then he thought back to seeing Shianni on the floor, beaten, a look of terror in her eyes. He had been so consumed with his anger towards Vaughan that he hadn't realized that she wasn't afraid of Vaughan. She had been terrified of him. When he realized this, he wanted to punch himself in the head for being so stupid. He hated himself now. He never wanted to scare Shianni, but he did. The look of fear she had haunted him whenever he closed his eyes, but now he was even more disturbed by it, because it was fear of him, not of Vaughan.

He clenched his fists out of reflex when he remembered Shianni's face. Theron must have noticed because he asked, "Are you alright?"

Darrian looked at him, opening his hands up, relieved that his train of thought had been broken. He nodded and looked ahead again. They were passing the Chantry board, where a chanter was standing next to it, preaching the Chant of Light.

Darrian rolled his eyes and focused on where they heading: the Imperial highway. It was a relic from when the Tevinter Imperium ruled Thedas, constructed out of stone and seven or eight feet high off the ground, a ramp providing access. He noticed several upturned wagons near where the gap in the highway began.

He glanced to Neria, who was looking over her shoulder to make sure none of the Templars were following them. It was almost as though she thought that they could tell she was a mage just by looking at her.

He glanced to Theron again, who was looking around the village, examining the humans located all over the place.

When Theron had told him that he was Dalish, Darrian wanted to ask him question after question about them. He had stopped himself before he got carried away, realizing that since they were both recruited to be Grey Wardens, they would have plenty of time to talk.

He examined Theron more closely and noticed that he looked paler than usual. Almost to the point that Darrian thought he was going to faint.

He nudged Neria, jerking his head toward Theron when he wasn't looking. Neria examined him before asking him, "Are you alright, Theron?"

Theron looked at her questioningly before replying, "Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"You look paler than usual. Do you need a rest?"

"I'm fine. The sooner we get to Ostagar, the better."

Duncan must have heard them talking, because Darrian noticed him glance at Theron over his shoulder. "We should take a rest," he said, stopping.

"I said I'm fine," Theron protested.

"You don't look 'fine,'" Darrian commented, thinking he was missing something important.

"What does that mean?" Theron replied, defensive.

"You look like you are about to faint. I think you should get some rest."

"Why is everyone so worried? I said I'm fine and I meant it. Now let's just get to Ostagar." His tone seemed to leave no room for argument. He crossed his arms and eyed everyone with a gaze that made them look away when he focused on them.

"Fine," Neria said, conceding. "Might as well get to Ostagar as soon as we can anyway."

They all turned and started walking again. As they walked, Darrian wondered why Theron was as pale as he was. _Is he sick? If he is, why doesn't he feel like it?_


	9. Five Vials and Some Treaties

_**A/N:**_ Time for Theron, Darrian, and Neria to prep for the Joining. Sorry for the lack of detail. I kinda wanted to rush through this part. This chapter also jumps back and forth between Neria and Darrian's POV. And please review, I'd like to know how you guys think I'm doing.

Enjoy!

* * *

After another day of traveling, and a meeting with King Cailan, Theron, Neria, Duncan, and Darrian finally made it to Ostagar. Duncan went to his tent and told Theron and Darrian to find two other recruits in the main camp named Daveth and Jory. He then told Neria to find a Grey Warden named Alistair, who was to help them all prepare for their Joining.

As she walked through the camp, Neria noticed Wynne standing near the magi encampment, where, of course, Templars were watching the every move of the mages there. She walked up to Wynne, who quickly recognized her, saying, "Neria? What are you doing here, child?"

Neria smiled at the familiar face, replying, "I'm here to become a Grey Warden."

"A Grey Warden? My, that is quite the achievement!"

"Yes, it is. Have you seen Solona? She was recruited too."

"I have not seen her, but I heard about the two dwarves who came from Orzammar to join the Wardens."

"I think I know who you're talking about, Wynne. We found them in the Deep Roads. If they're here, then Solona is too."

"Well, I'm glad to see that you two were given the opportunity to do something great. I'm sure you will be up to that task."

"Thank you, Wynne." Neria turned to leave, but stopped herself, asking, "Do you know a Grey Warden named Alistair?"

"Alistair? No… I have not heard the name. Why?"

"I'm supposed to find him before we can prepare for the Joining."

"Ah, of course. Well, I'm sure he can't be far."

"Oh well. Thanks anyway."

"Anytime." Wynne smiled and nodded as Neria turned and headed for a ramp that lead to a higher portion of the ancient fortress.

She heard talking to her right, so she headed up the ramp and saw two men standing there, talking. One was obviously a mage, clad in robes with a staff strapped to his back. The other was clad in splintmail armor, with and sword and shield on his back. He had short brown hair and a slight grin, somewhat goofish looking really. As she approached, she heard him say, "The Revered Mother requests your presence, ser mage."

"Oh? And why should I do that?" the mage responded, annoyed.

"Because I asked nicely?"

"Your glibness does you no credit."

"And here I thought we were getting along. I was even going to name one of my children after you. The grumpy one." Neria giggled at the jibe, despite herself.

"Fine!" The mage turned and stormed off, Neria taking it as her cue to approach.

"You know, one good thing about the Blight is that it really brings people together."

Again, Neria giggled despite herself. She felt somewhat different around this man, almost like she was going to trip over her words if she spoke. "Are you Alistair?" she said, trying not to sound foolish. She was suddenly very self-conscious.

"Yes I am. You don't happen to be a mage, do you?"

"Uh… actually I am."

"Well, that's good to know. I'll be sure not to make you angry." Alistair chuckled to himself and Neria felt herself blushing.

"You're a funny man," Neria said, mentally slapping herself at the comment.

"Oh, am I? You haven't seen me perform at children's parties!"

This time Neria almost burst out laughing, but she caught herself.

"So, who are you?" Alistair started, a curious look on his face. "Are you with the Circle? There are a lot of mages here."

"I'm Neria. Me and my friend, Solona, were recruited from the Circle by Duncan."

"Neria? Oh! So you must be the other mage Duncan was talking about. I should have recognized you sooner. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Neria found herself saying, "I'm probably not that noticeable anyway."

"Well, I wouldn't say that."

Neria almost giggled again, but she caught herself, thinking that Alistair would probably think she was a fool.

"You know, we've never had many women in the Wardens," Alistair stated. "I wonder why that is…"

"You want more women in the Wardens?"

"It couldn't hurt."

"Well, there are three now. Me, Solona, and Natia."

"Natia? Was she the other dwarf that was recruited in the Deep Roads? Came here with another dwarf and your friend Solona?"

"That's her. I'm the one who found them."

"What do you mean?"

"They were in a cave in the Deep Roads. I was the only one who could fit through the tunnel leading to their camp. Other than Bones, of course."

"Who's Bones?"

"Aedan's mabari."

"Oh! I know who you're talking about. Aedan Cousland, right? He seems really attached to that hound."

"Yeah. You know him?"

"Of course. I helped him prepare for his Joining with Solona, Natia, and the other dwarf. I can't seem to remember his name though…"

"Duran?"

"That's the name! Well, weren't you suppose to be with two other recruits? The Dalish elf and the one from the Denerim alienage?"

"You mean Theron and Darrian?"

"I think that's them."

"They're looking for Daveth and Jory. They'll meet us with Duncan."

"Ok then. If they are doing that, then we should head over to Duncan right away."

"I can't wait to travel with you." Again, Neria mentally slapped herself. She didn't mean to say it, but she blurted it out anyway.

"Really? Huh. That's a switch. After you, then."

Neria smiled inwardly as she turned around and they both headed down both ramps. Neria looked across the camp and saw Duncan, Theron, and Darrian standing with two other humans, who she assumed to be Daveth and Jory. They walk over to them and Duncan says, "Good, you're all here. We can begin."

"Now can you tell us about this Joining?" Darrian asks, annoyed either about the wait, or the amount of humans in the group. Probably both.

"Not yet. First we need to prepare. You six will head into the Korcari Wilds and obtain five vials of darkspawn blood."

"Isn't there already darkspawn blood available?" Theron asks, somewhat confused.

"Yes, but you must work together to collect the blood. It is as much a part of the Joining as what comes after."

"So all we have to do is collect the blood?" Neria starts. "Sounds easy enough."

"That is not all you need to do. It has recently come to our attention that there are Grey Warden artifacts located in a ruined tower, somewhere in the Wilds. You are to locate them and return them here."

"What exactly are these artifacts?" Theron asks, curious.

"Old treaties, if you're really curious. They were signed centuries ago, but they still hold meaning."

"Is this apart of the Joining too?" Neria asks.

"No, but the effort must be made. Those treaties are very important."

"So, all we have to do it get the darkspawn blood and find the treaties?" Darrian starts. "Doesn't sound to hard."

"Lets get to the Wilds, then," Neria says, somewhat excited.

Before Duncan can stop them, Theron, Alistair, Daveth, Neria, Darrian, and Jory all turn and head to the gate that leads to the Korcari Wilds, introducing themselves to each other on the way.

* * *

After entering the Korcari Wilds and fighting through dozens of genlocks and their taller cousins, hurlocks, Theron, Alistair, Jory, Neria, Darrian, and Daveth come across a wounded scout who is barely alive and trying to keep his upper body off the ground.

"Well, you're not half as dead as you look," Alistair says, Neria seeming to giggle to herself at the comment. Darrian just rolls his eyes. _Of course there just __**had**__ to be more humans. And this one seems to think he's funny._

"We should bandage him up," Neria suggests, taking some bandages from her pack and using them to close some of the scout's wounds. She then hands him an elfroot poultice, helping him pour it into his mouth. The scout slowly gets up, grunting as he mumbles about darkspawn attacking his patrol and killing them all. He then starts limping away, back toward Ostagar.

"Did you hear that?" Jory starts, nervous. "An entire company of seasoned soldiers was attacked and killed by darkspawn!"

"Are all humans such cowards?" Darrian asks, rolling his eyes.

"Calm down Ser Jory," Alistair starts. "There may be darkspawn about, but no matter their cunning, I guarantee they won't catch us by surprise."

"You see ser knight?" Daveth starts. "The darkspawn might get us, but we'll be warned about it first."

"That is… reassuring?" Jory says, hesitant.

"You seem to forget that I'm a mage," Neria states, tapping the staff strapped to her back.

"And how many darkspawn do you think the six of us can slay? A dozen? A hundred? There's a whole **army** out there!"

"All Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn," Alistair explains. "We run no risk of running into the main body of the horde."

_ I swear, these humans are unbelievable. The sooner we get the vials and the treaties, the sooner we get to the Joining._

Darrian rolls his eyes and starts heading further ahead when Theron says, "Where are you going, Darrian?"

"To get on with getting the vials of blood and the treaties," he replies without stopping.

Then he hears the footsteps of everyone else trying to catch up with him as he continues forward.

* * *

Five vials of darkspawn blood and several battles later, they all come to the ruins of a tower and see a broken chest in the center. They walk up to it and Neria examines it, not seeing the treaties anywhere. They all hear a woman's voice from the right and turn to see who it is.

The woman has black hair that is brought up behind her head, slightly pale, though not to point of being unhealthy, yellowish eyes, and she wears clothes that seem to have been patched together from random pieces of cloths found in the Wilds. Her tunic reveals much of her chest, only covering her breasts and her abdomen to some extent. She continues talking as she walks toward them, until she is standing in front of the group. "So who are you, hmm? Scavenger or intruder?" she asks.

"Neither," Neria says. "The Grey Wardens used to own this tower." _There's something off about her… I don't like it._

"Tis a tower no longer. What are you searching for, I wonder? Something that is here no longer?"

"'Here no longer?'" Alistair echoes. "You stole them, didn't you? You're some kind of… sneaky… witch-thief!"

"How very eloquent. How does one steal from dead men?"

"Quite easily, it seems. Those documents are Grey Warden property and I suggest you return them."

"I will not, for twas not I who removed them. Invoke a name that has no meaning here if you must. I am not threatened."

"She's a Witch of the Wilds, I tell you!" Daveth starts, very nervous. "She'll turn us all into toads!"

"'Witch of the Wilds?' Such idle fancies, those legends. Have you no minds of your own?"

"Shut it, Daveth," Darrian says, very annoyed.

"You there," she starts, gesturing to Darrian. "Elves do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

Darrian raises an eyebrow in surprise, obviously not expecting to be addressed so directly. "Darrian," he says, introducing himself.

"You may call me Morrigan, if you wish."

"If you didn't take the treaties, who did?" Theron asks, somewhat suspicious.

"Twas my mother, in fact."

"Well, can you take us to her?" Neria asks, curious as to how this 'Morrigan' survived in the Wilds.

"She'll put us all in the pot, she will!" Daveth says, still very nervous.

"If the pot is warmer than this forest, it'd be a nice change," Jory says, somewhat annoyed.

"Very well," Morrigan starts. "Follow me."

Morrigan turns around and starts walking away, with everyone following her.

* * *

After a few minutes of walking, they all reach a hut in a clearing. It seems to be built in a way that it can be taken down in a hurry and easily rebuilt.

As they approach, they see a much older-looking woman standing in front of the hut, hair somewhat ragged and unkempt.

"Hello, Mother. I bring you six Grey Wardens who-" Morrigan begins.

"I see them, girl," the older woman starts. "I assume that you are here for your treaties? I have protected them."

"You- Oh… You protected them?" Alistair says, surprised.

"And why not? Bring them back to your Grey Wardens and tell them that this Blight's threat is great than they realize." The woman hands the treaties to Alistair, who puts them in his pack.

"What do you mean?" Neria asks, confused.

"Either the threat is more, or they realize less. Or perhaps the threat is nothing! Or perhaps they realize nothing!" She starts laughing out loud, and everyone looks at each other in confusion. "Oh don't mind me. You have what you came for."

Then, Theron quickly bows low in respect, as if he should have done so before. "Andaran atish'an , Asha'Bellanar," he quickly says.

"Ah, one of the People. So quick to bend their knee. Stand."

Theron stands and nods in respect. "Ma serannas."

"Wait," Darrian begins, looking toward Theron quizzically. "You know her, Theron?"

"I know of her," Theron explains. "She is well known and deeply respected amongst the Dalish."

"What, is she some sort of Dalish hero?" Alistair asks, half-joking.

"No. We Dalish respect and fear her for her age, wisdom, and power."

"What does 'Asha'Bellanar' mean?" Neria asks, very curious.

"It means, 'Woman of Many Years.'"

"So she's old," Darrian starts. "Why give her a special name?"

"If I might get us back on track," Alistair interrupts. "It is getting late and we need to get back to Duncan with the darkspawn blood and treaties."

"Right," Neria agrees.

"Farewell," Morrigan says.

"Don't be ridiculous, girl," the old woman starts. "These are your guests."

"Very well, I will show you out of the woods. Follow me." They all turn and follow Morrigan out of the Wilds and to Ostagar, Neria and Darrian wondering about the old woman and how the Dalish knew about her.


	10. The Joining and The Charge

_**A/N:**_ Sorry this chapter is late. I was having trouble finding time to type it up. Again, please review. I feel like people are losing interest...

Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

After a long journey back to Ostagar, Theron, Darrian, Daveth, Jory, Neria, and Alistair arrive and head toward Duncan. Morrigan had disappeared before anyone could thank her for helping them return to Ostagar, which only made Neria more suspicious about who exactly she was.

They reached Duncan, who immediately asked, "Did you gather the blood and treaties?"

Alistair handed over the treaties and vials before replying, "Yes, Duncan."

"Good. We should proceed with the Joining without delay."

"**Now** can you tell us about the Joining?" Darrian asks, growing more impatient.

"Yes, though we need to be somewhere more secluded first. Follow me."

Duncan turns and heads to the area where Neria had first met Alistair, everyone following behind.

* * *

After explaining the Joining, Jory seeming to get more and more nervous, Duncan said that he needed to get the vials of blood they had collected before the Joining could begin.

"The more I hear about this Joining, the less I like it," Jory complained, nervous.

"I swear, I'm a **woman **and I'm braver than you," Neria starts. "And you're a knight!"

"All I know is that I've got a wife at home with a child on the way. I don't want to leave them to fend for themselves."

"You've seen those darkspawn, ser knight," Daveth starts. "Wouldn't you die to protect your pretty little wife from them?"

"Of course, but this just doesn't seem fair."

"Maybe that's why they don't tell you about the Joining. The Grey Wardens do what they must, right?"

"Including sacrificing us?"

"I'd sacrifice a lot more if I knew it'd end the Blight."

"He does have a point, Jory," Theron agrees.

"Maybe you'll die. Maybe we'll all die. If no one stops the darkspawn, we'll die for sure."

"I've just never encountered a foe I couldn't engage with my blade," Jory admits.

"Ugh, I swear you humans are giving me a headache!" Darrian complains, irritated.

Duncan approaches, carrying a large chalice that appears to be filled with some type of liquid.

"At last, the Joining can begin," he says.

"What's the chalice for?" Theron asks, curious.

"As Grey Wardens, we pay a heavy price to become what we are. Fate may decree that some of us pay that price sooner, rather than later."

"You mean we're going to drink the blood of those… those creatures?" Jory asks, frightened.

"Such is what it takes to become a Grey Warden. We have few words spoken before the Joining, but they have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would."

Alistair lowers his head before reciting, what Neria assumes to be, a sort of prayer.

She somewhat tuned out Alistair's words, focusing on him intently. She liked him, almost from the moment she saw him. It was almost like he was different… special. She never felt this way about anyone, so she didn't understand what this was or why she felt the way she did. It was an odd feeling. It felt like a mixture of happiness, self-consciousness, embarrassment, loneliness, fear, and want, all competing for dominance in her mind. It was hard to describe in words. Her body felt like it belonged to someone else, she second-guessed herself, she was worried about what she might say if she opened her mouth, she also worried that Alistair could tell exactly what she was thinking just by looking at her…

Oddly enough, what worried her most of all, was that Alistair might not like her. She had never cared about such a thing before, as most of the Templars in the Circle tower didn't like mages and plenty of the mages who wanted to appease the Chantry didn't like her much. She hadn't even been worried that people outside the Circle might hate her for just being a mage. But when she was around Alistair, the thought persisted no matter how much she tried to push it away.

She shook herself from her thoughts, her eyes glancing away from Alistair as he looked up after he finish speaking.

She turned around, hearing Duncan say, "Daveth. Step forward."

Daveth did as he was told, stepping forward and grabbing the chalice with both hands as Duncan handed it to him. "This is it," Neria heard him say to himself before he brought the chalice to his lips and, tilting it back, took a sip of the tainted blood that filled it. After swallowing, he handed the chalice back to Duncan, who took two steps backwards, Neria instinctively following suit. Then, Daveth started to cough and choke, gripping his throat as if something was burning it. He doubled over, half screaming in pain, half choking, as he started to collapse to the ground, trying to gasp for air.

"I'm sorry, Daveth," Duncan says, seconds before Daveth collapses, silent and completely still. _He's… dead? Maker's breath…_

"Step forward, Jory."

Jory glances between Daveth's body and Duncan, starting to panic. "But… I have a wife. A child! If I had known…"

"There can be no turning back." Duncan starts to approach Jory, who backs up, grabbing his greatsword.

"No. You ask too much. I can't do this!"

Duncan's face changes from his usual blank expression, to one of hostility, as he draws his dagger, placing the chalice on a nearby table.

Jory thrusts in fear, Duncan easily deflecting the blow and thrusting his dagger through Jory's abdomen. Jory's expression turns from one of fear, to one of shock and pain. "I'm sorry, Jory," Duncan says, pulling his blade back as Jory collapses to the ground, dead.

"Step forth, Neria," Duncan says, sheathing his dagger and grabbing the chalice once again.

Neria takes a half-step back, shocked. She had seen two men die right before her eyes, one of which was murdered. She was absolutely terrified, she never expected anything like this. She wasn't ready.

She glanced to Darrian, who seemed as calm as ever, which didn't help.

Her eyes shifted toward Theron, who seemed only slightly shocked. Again, that didn't help.

She glanced toward Alistair and, suddenly, she regained her resolve. Alistair seemed as shocked as she was, but nowhere near as afraid, which, for some reason, calmed her.

She looked back toward Duncan, who had taken another step toward her. She stepped forward and reached for the chalice. _Here goes…_ She tilted the chalice toward her lips, the tainted blood pouring into her mouth. She grimaced as the taste hit her. It was disgusting: bitter, sour, dry, and actually **tasting** of evil all at once.

Slowly, she swallowed and handed the chalice back to Duncan, the blood burning her throat as it traveled down towards her stomach. After Duncan had backed away, a sudden and terrible pain ripped through her skull, her hands flying up instinctively in response. She struggled to maintain consciousness, her eyes slamming shut in pain. Then, her whole body tensed up, her eyelids parting and her eyes rolling into the back of her skull. She fell, passing out before she hit the ground.

* * *

Neria felt like she was somewhere else. Somewhere she had never seen before, but was oddly familiar. She looked around, before seeing a large dragon land on a nearby cliff. But, somehow, she knew it wasn't a dragon. It had the shape of a dragon and its size, but it looked like its whole body had been corrupted, oddly colored blotches dotting its hide.

She felt a need to listen to this creature, as if it was going to tell her something she needed to know. Then, the 'dragon' roared loudly, causing pain to rip through her skull.

* * *

She woke to Alistair and Duncan leaning over her.

"It is done," Duncan declared, standing upright.

Neria tried to lift her head, but a jolt of pain tore through, causing her hands to quickly rise to her head. She looked back to Alistair, who held out a hand to her as an offer of help. She took his hand as he helped her up, wincing as pain ripped through her whole body.

When she stood completely straight, she looked toward Theron and Darrian, who were recovering in a similar manner to which she had.

"Two more deaths," Alistair said, solemnly. "In my Joining only one of us died. But it was… horrible. I'm glad you three survived."

"How do you all feel?"

"Ugh… my head," Neria responded, her head still ringing in pain.

"The pain was… unbelievable," Theron stated, his hands rubbing his temple.

"Could have been worse," Darrian said, trying to shake off the pain.

"Such is what it takes to become a Grey Warden," Duncan says.

"Did you have dreams?" Alistair asks. "I had terrible dreams after my Joining."

"The dreams will fade in time."

"There is one last part to the Joining. We take some of the blood, and put it into a pendant. As a reminder of those who didn't make it this far." Alistair hands an amulet filled with the same blood they had just consumed to Neria, Theron, and Darrian. They all place them around their necks, looking back toward Duncan.

"What now?" Theron asks.

"Once you all recover, wait by the strategy table. The king has requested your presence."

They all nod as Duncan continues, "I will look for Duran, Natia, Aedan, and Solona and meet you there." They nod again before Duncan turns around and leaves, Alistair following close behind.

"I'm going to talk to the quartermaster," Darrian states. "I could use some decent armor."

"I guess me and Neria will be waiting for you and Duncan, then," Theron replies. "Let's hope we survive the battle."

Darrian nods and walks away, heading for the quartermaster.

* * *

As he headed toward the quartermaster, Darrian felt something different about himself. Something new. He felt presences he never felt before, some in the direction of the valley, where the king's army and most of the Grey Wardens were camped, and thousands in the direction of the Wilds. He had no idea what it was, though he assumed it was him sensing those who had the taint, which included darkspawn and Grey Wardens.

As he approached the quartermaster, he saw a human approaching, a mabari hound following close behind. The man was clad in heavy chainmail armor, a sword and shield strapped to his back. He had short brown hair and several scars on his face.

Darrian glared at the human, noticing the man's straight and proper stature as he walked. The man noticed the glare and a look of confusion appeared on his face. _Great. More nobles._ The man's mabari noticed the glare, flattening its ears and baring its teeth, as if getting ready for a fight. He sensed the taint in the man, indicating that he was a Warden.

The man tried to put on a friendly face, approaching and saying, "I see you are a Grey Warden. Do you need anything?"

"I don't need anything from a human," Darrian replied, adding an edge of hostility to his voice.

The man seemed shocked, probably not expecting the response. "Have I offended you?"

"So I need to be offended to not like humans?"

"No, that's not what I meant. I apologize."

"Ugh, forget it. I have enough of a headache already. Go away, shem."

"What did I do to deserve this treatment?" The human actually looked confused.

Darrian's glare intensified, causing the man to tense up slightly in intimidation. Slowly, he started to walk past Darrian, giving him a wide berth. Darrian continued on his path toward the quartermaster, rolling his eyes at the previous encounter. _He had the nerve to actually __**look**__ hurt. Blasted humans…_

* * *

Neria and Theron waited as everyone else arrived, one-by-one, introducing themselves to Theron as they approached. Darrian, who was now clad in plate armor, eventually returned, obviously ignoring Solona and Aedan, walking over to Duran and Natia, introducing himself to them. Solona looked toward Neria in confusion, Neria explaining about what happened to Darrian and the fact that he hated humans. Aedan seemed to be somewhat intimidated by Darrian, never looking at him for more than a few seconds.

After waiting a few more minutes, Duncan finally arrived. Neria was disappointed when she didn't see Alistair following him.

"Good," Cailan started, excited. "Everyone is here. Now we can begin. And I understand that congratulations are in order." Cailan gestures to Darrian, Theron, and Neria before adding, "I trust you three will do the Wardens proud."

Neria nodded respectfully while Darrian rolled his eyes and Theron eyed the man next to Cailan, clad in silver armor with short jet-black hair and a grizzled face that seemed as hard as stone. Neria knew who the man was: Teryn Loghain.

"Cailan, you put too much faith in the Grey Wardens. Is that truly wise?" Loghain complains, rubbing his temple with his thumb and forefinger.

"Enough of your conspiracy theories, Loghain. The Wardens battle the Blight no matter where they are from. And you will remember who is king."

"How fortunate Maric did not live to see his son ready to hand Fereldan back to those who enslaved us for a century."

"Then our current forces will have to suffice, won't they?"

"One of these days, your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing."

"Fine. So the Grey Wardens and I draw the darkspawn into charging our line. Then…?"

"When the moment is right, you will light the beacon and I will order my men to charge."

"To flank the darkspawn, I remember. The beacon is located in the Tower of Ishal, correct? Who shall light it?"

"I have a few men stationed there. It is not a dangerous task, but it is vital."

"Then we should send our best. Send Alistair and Neria to the tower to light the beacon."

A wave of joy washed over Neria. She had hoped that she would be fighting alongside Alistair, though she wasn't entirely sure why.

Then, a mage entered the area, saying, "Your highness, the tower and its beacon are unnecessary. The Circle of Magi-"

"We will not trust any lives to your spells, mage!" the Revered Mother interrupts, furious. "Save them for the darkspawn."

"Enough," Loghain demands. "This plan will suffice. The Grey Wardens shall light the beacon."

"Excellent. The king of Fereldan charging alongside the fabled Grey Wardens to stem the tide of evil. Glorious."

Loghain starts to walk away, but stops, saying, "Yes, Cailan. A glorious moment for us all."

* * *

Darrian, Duran, Natia, Aedan, Solona, and Theron headed to the field while Duncan informed Neria and Alistair about what they needed to do during the battle. Duran had always longed to be part of a large battle against the darkspawn, and he had gotten that wish the day after his Joining. This was the third, and hopefully final, clash against the darkspawn here at Ostagar, the second of which Duran had been a part of. They were to stay behind the more experienced Wardens, protecting the archers and mages that were to support the rest of the army.

Aedan's mabari was already on the field with the other mabari hounds, who were supposed to be the second wave, taking down as many darkspawn as possible before they reached the main body of the army. Of course, this time, there would be no way they could make a dent in their numbers, as there seemed to be two to three darkspawn for every archer, hound, Grey Warden, soldier, and mercenary at Ostagar.

Tactically, the battle was even; the darkspawn had greater numbers, but the king's forces had a large defensive advantage. The darkspawn horde's size was a mixed blessing. Yes, they out-numbered them, but those numbers would be little use in the bottleneck that they were being drawn into, and, if Loghain's plan succeeded, would be of even less use when Loghain's men flanked them.

This was all assuming that everything went according to plan. There was so many things that could go wrong: the darkspawn could out-flank Loghain's men, the tower could be destroyed by a stray projectile, darkspawn could overrun the tower, the horde could be larger than they thought… There were too many possibilities to name them all.

Duran shook himself from his thoughts and noticed that they were near the field. He heard Darrian and Theron talking with Natia and Aedan and Solona chatting along, wondering why Neria had been chosen to light the beacon.

He noticed Darrian's dislike of humans instantly, seeing as how he tended to glare at Aedan and ignore Solona completely. He wasn't about to ask why Darrian disliked humans so much while Aedan and Solona were in ear-shot, but he was still curious.

They eventually got to their position, which was the same as it was during the last battle, which had been a hard fought victory. They got into position, waiting for the battle to begin. There was utter silence as everyone on the field realized that either they'd break the horde here, or they'd die and the rest of Fereldan would be wide open for the darkspawn.

Duran noticed Duncan approach Cailan from behind, Cailan turning around and addressing him. Then, he heard the rumbling of the darkspawn horde roaring, shouting, and stomping on the ground, trying to intimidate the soldiers. Several soldiers slowly backed up, being stopped by the men behind them, who made simple gestures, trying to comfort their comrades.

Then, the ground started rumbling as the horde charged, still roaring.

"Archers!" Cailan shouted, signaling an enormous volley of arrows to fly overhead, the shear number resembling a thick, black cloud. He heard the hundreds of thuds of arrows either hitting their target, which were followed by shrieks as darkspawn fell, or landing in the ground.

Duran looked around. Natia was coating her blades in venom while Theron was doing the same with a strange looking toxin. Darrian and Aedan watched in silence while Solona drew her staff, summoning a protective shield for herself and the archers in her immediate area.

"Hounds!" At this, Duran heard barking and the rumbling sound of dozens of mabari hounds charging at the horde, intent on taking a chunk out of the enemy… literally. Darrian drew his greatsword from his back as Aedan drew his longsword and shield. Duran followed suit, unsheathing his new waraxe and grabbing his new targe shield, readying himself for the attack.

He heard a couple yelps as hounds were killed by darkspawn. He noticed Aedan wince before he heard, "For Fereldan!"

Immediately, the air around him erupted with the shouts of the soldiers as they began to charge at the horde. Duran, Natia, Theron, Darrian, and Aedan joined the charge, Solona staying behind with several other mages to provide long-range support.

_I'm not going to die while Bhelen still breathes._


	11. Betrayal

_**A/N:**_ The Battle of Ostagar, at last! Be prepared for a lot of combat and POV switching, as well as some gore. If gore bothers you, then maybe you should just not read this chapter... though that's not really a good idea. Why? Well, you'll be confused about how Duran and the others got out of Ostagar and about a later scene in a chapter or two. Don't bug me for spoilers. You'll find out in good time.

Enjoy!

* * *

"This is insane!" Neria shouted as she and Alistair ran across the bridge leading to the Tower of Ishal, dodging the flaming boulders that were launched at the ballistae that were positioned there.

"Just keep moving!" he replied. Another boulder hit, destroying a ballista and sending its crew flying off the bridge.

Neria glanced back and noticed a boulder flying toward Alistair, moving too fast for him to see and avoid. She spun around and launched a fireball at it, deflecting it enough that it would land behind Alistair. The boulder landed and shook the bridge.

Alistair turned around and saw a large crater in the bridge where the boulder had hit. He looked back toward Neria and said, "Thanks. I didn't see that one."

Neria smiled and nodded. Another boulder hit the bridge, landing between them and the Tower of Ishal, leaving behind a crater. _Damn. We need to hurry._

She turned around again and they sprinted toward the tower, avoiding the crater in front of them.

When they finally had crossed the bridge, Neria saw two men running away from the tower. They approached them, the first man saying, "We need help! They've taken the tower!"

"What are you talking about, man? Taken how?" Alistair asks.

"The darkspawn tunneled their way inside. Most of our men are dead!"

"Then we have to get to the beacon and light it ourselves."

The men nodded and they followed Neria and Alistair as they headed towards the tower, fighting through darkspawn on the way.

* * *

"Where's Loghain's men?!" Duran shouted to Aedan, realizing that the darkspawn were starting to get the upper hand.

Aedan cut down a hurlock emissary before replying, "I don't know! The beacon hasn't been lit yet!"

Duran sliced a genlock across the chest and deflected an arrow with his shield. _What is going on up there?_ He saw an ogre be brought down by dozens of arrows before slicing a hurlock's legs, chopping into its chest when it fell to the ground.

He turned as a hurlock tried to swing its greatsword straight down on top of him, only to be sent flying a dozen feet away. Duran looked in the direction the blow had come from and saw Solona nod to him, as if saying 'You're welcome.' He nodded back before turning around and seeing Darrian cleave through two hurlocks with one swing. _Got to remember not to get on his bad side._

Duran charged toward another hurlock, slashing upwards across its chest. He turned and saw Bones jump onto the back of a hurlock that was trying to sneak up on Aedan, biting into its neck and shaking his head violently before ripping out a chunk of flesh.

He turned again and saw Theron spin to avoid an arrow before slicing the head off one hurlock with his sword and stabbing another in the gut with his dagger. He then threw a flask filled with acid at a pair of genlocks, bathing them in the corrosive liquid.

Duran blocked a blow from a genlock and sliced through its neck, decapitating it. Suddenly, he found that he had been knocked into the ground face-first. He rolled over and saw Natia seemingly appear from thin air, thrusting her sword through the back of the hurlock that had knocked him down. The hurlock collapsed and Natia pulled Duran up before spinning around to deflect a blow from a genlock, following up with a thrust through its chest. _That's the second time she's saved my life._

* * *

Neria, Alistair, and the two soldiers who were following them had made it to the second floor of the Tower of Ishal, fighting through darkspawn the whole way.

"This doesn't make sense," Alistair said, confused. "What are these darkspawn doing so far ahead of the horde?"

"You could try telling them they're in the wrong place," Neria replied, unthinking. _Why did I just say that?_

"Right. I'm sure this is a whole misunderstanding." Alistair chuckled and Neria felt a little less embarrassed. "Anyway, we should keep moving. We need to light the beacon."

Neria nodded and they all started off again. The room they had entered had fleshy looking blobs scattered about, some impaled by wooden stakes that had been corrupted by the taint. The air reeked from the smell of rotting flesh.

They continued forward and ran into a group of hurlocks and genlocks. Alistair charged forward, his shield in front of him. Neria electrocuted three genlocks in a row, the bolt jumping across them, while Alistair sliced the head off a hurlock. Neria summoned a column of fire, burning a hurlock to a crisp before freezing two more solid.

After finishing off the rest of the darkspawn, they continued on, fighting through the occasional group of darkspawn as they made their way through the rest of the second floor and through the third.

When they got to the fourth floor, they saw an ogre bent over, eating something. It turned around and stood, roaring at the group. It charged and they all scattered, just barely getting out of its way.

Neria launched a stonefist as it turned, hitting it square in the chest. It stumbled back a couple steps before recovering, focusing on her. Her eyes widened in fear before she tried launch a fireball at it. The ogre raised its arm to block the projectile, the fireball burning its flesh on contact. It roared before Alistair charged at it, slicing at its legs. The ogre collapsed to one knee when Alistair sliced the back of its ankle, severing the tendons there. He rounded it and stabbed upward into the ogre's chest, pulling back and dodging a swing of its arms as it retaliated.

Neria launched another stonefist into the ogre's chest wound, causing it roll backwards, lying flat on the ground. Alistair ran and jumped onto the ogre's chest, stabbing deep and twisting his blade. The ogre's arms rose to try to retaliate, but fell limp to the floor.

Alistair slowly backed off the ogre's chest, watching it until he was satisfied that it was dead. Then he said, "Let's light the beacon. We've surely missed the signal."

Neria nodded, walking over to a large pile of wood, lighting it with burst of fire from her hands. She stepped back as the fire grew, becoming brighter and brighter.

_ I hope Loghain can see it…_

* * *

"The beacon's been lit!"

Duran looked up to see a bright orange light coming from the top of the tower. He didn't have time to cheer, as two genlocks charged at him. He blocked a swing from one and ducked his head below the other, following up with a slash across its chest. He bashed the other to the ground and chopped downward into its gut.

_ Something's not right._

He glanced to the direction Loghain's men were supposed to charge from, seeing nothing. Then he heard the roar of an ogre.

He whipped his head toward the sound and saw it throw a body off to the side like a rag doll. Duran caught a glimpse of gold-plated armor on the body. _Damn. Cailan._ The ogre roared triumphantly as the battle continued to rage around it.

Duran cut down another genlock as he caught a glimpse of a man zip through the battle, charging at the ogre. He turned his head as the man leapt and stabbed his blades deep into the ogre's chest. He looked more closely and realized that it was Duncan, who repeatedly stabbed the ogre's chest, alternating his blades.

Duran blocked an arrow and sliced a hurlock before he saw the ogre fall, Duncan still on its chest. He turned around and blocked blow from another hurlock, bashing it to the ground and hacking at its chest. That's when he heard the rumbling of a charge.

He instinctively looked back to where Loghain's men were supposed to charge from, but still, there was nothing. He then looked toward the Wilds.

There were hundreds more darkspawn charging. Duran saw one of them raise its battleaxe before slicing on a downward angle, at Duncan's neck.

He froze as he saw Duncan's body fall to the ground, his head rolling away.

"Duncan!" he heard Aedan shout. Duran turned around and saw Aedan frozen still, not seeing the hurlock approaching from his right.

Solona sent the hurlock flying and Duran looked around, seeing several Grey Wardens cut down from behind. His instincts were shouting at him to run, but he needed to save as many people as he could. He looked back to Aedan, who was still too shocked to do anything.

Then he looked toward Darrian, who swung in a circle around him, slicing five hurlocks in half. "Darrian!" Duran shouted, getting his attention. "We need to get out of here! Grab Aedan and let's go!" Darrian nodded and followed through with his orders, running over to Aedan and wrapping his arm around his waist, dragging him away from the battle, Bones following behind.

Duran looked to Natia, who was back-to-back with Theron, fighting a mix of hurlocks and genlocks. "We need to get out of here!" he shouted to them, ducking a swing from and hurlock and slicing on an upward angle across its chest. When he looked back, Natia had vanished and Theron was already catching up to Darrian.

Duran turned and followed them, several other soldiers, including Francis and Carver, coming with him. Solona had already started running with Theron and Darrian, Natia reappearing next to them.

They ran further into Ostagar, looking for anywhere to hide from the darkspawn, at least until they had an opportunity to escape. The darkspawn continued to chase them, their archers firing arrows in a attempt to wound or kill any of those who were fleeing.

"Over here!" a voice said, coming from the right. Duran looked and saw a hole in the wall. Without thinking, he ran into it, everyone else following suit. They entered and found that it was almost too dark to see anything aside from a few shapes. They heard the darkspawn run past, spreading out across the fortress.

"We need to get out of here," Duran whispered.

"I know a way out, but we can't chance it now," the voice whispered back. "Not with darkspawn so close."

"Who are you?" Duran heard Solona ask.

"It doesn't matter. All you need to know is that I'm a Grey Warden like you."

"How do we get out?" Theron asked, concerned.

"Further into this tunnel. It comes out near the Imperial Highway. We need to wait till morning though. We can't see our way through and trying to grab a torch is too risky right now."

Duran saw the room light up in a bluish glow. He looked toward Solona, whose hands were glowing. "I'm a mage," Solona started. "I can light our way through."

Duran looked back toward where the voice had been coming from. He saw an elf who had short black hair and several scars and cuts on his face and neck. He was fairly thin, with a bow strapped to his back. "I suppose that will work," he said. "Follow me."

The elf headed further into the tunnel and everyone else followed him, watching over their shoulders in case there were darkspawn following them.

* * *

The beacon had been burning for a few minutes now and Neria had an odd feeling that something wasn't right. As she and Alistair examined the ogre's corpse, the two soldiers that had followed them through the tower kept a wary eye on the door they had come through.

Suddenly, she heard them scream as footsteps rushed up the steps. She looked up and saw dozens of darkspawn charge into the room over the bodies of the two soldiers. She brought up a barrier to protect herself from the arrows being launched at her as Alistair dove for cover.

Suddenly, pain ripped through her arm, causing her to lose concentration. She looked down and saw that an arrow had pierced through, lodging itself halfway down the shaft. Then pain ripped through he opposite shoulder as an arrow pierced through her skin, lodging itself in the bone. Pain shot through her opposite shoulder as yet another arrow hit her. She doubled over in pain as an arrow pierced her abdomen, her hands reaching to the arrow. She slowly opened her eyes and raised her hand from the wound. It was covered in blood. _My blood…_

She collapsed to her knees, bending forward and catching herself with her intact arm, pain ripping through her shoulder in response. She rolled onto her side, feeling her blood pool around her.

"Neria!" Alistair shouted, seconds before he was hit with several arrows, collapsing to the ground right in front of her just before she lost consciousness.

_ So this is what it's like to die…_

* * *

As they made their way through the tunnel the ran underneath Ostagar, Duran noticed Solona quickly raise a hand toward her head, as if she was in pain.

"Is something wrong?" Natia asked, concerned.

"I… don't know," Solona responded, trying to figure out what just happened. "I feel like… like something terrible happened to Neria."

Natia quickly looked toward Duran, who immediately knew the reason. He saw Darrian and Theron look at each other out of the corner of his eye. He glanced toward Aedan, who seemed oblivious to everything around him.

"What?" Solona asked, confused.

"You might want to sit down," Natia suggested.

"'Sit down'? What do you…" Solona trailed off, her face immediately looking shocked. Her eyes started to water and she stopped walking, standing completely still. Everyone around her stopped as well, looking at her in sympathy and concern. "No…" she managed to say, before she dropped to her knees, raising her hands to her face, the glow from them dimming until they were in complete darkness. There was silence, with only Solona's sobs to listen to.


	12. Grief and Recovery

_**A/N:**_ Last month I had the most views I've ever had. A huge thanks to all you guys! Let's see if we can top it!

Enjoy!

* * *

An hour or so later, Solona had finally recovered enough to continue on, though everyone still heard her sniffle occasionally. Francis had stayed somewhat close to Solona, trying to comfort her. Carver seemed to want to get out of the tunnels as soon as possible. Natia kept glancing toward Solona to make sure she was alright. Darrian and Theron were whispering to each other, though no one other than another elf would have been able to make out the words, which the Grey Warden they were following was. Aedan still seemed oblivious to nearly everything around him, nearly tripping over a rock more than a few times, Bones nudging him every once in a while, trying to get his attention.

Duran just kept looking straight ahead. He hadn't know Neria long, but that didn't mean he wasn't upset that she was gone. He knew the odds though. Even if she got out of the tower, she would have been swarmed by darkspawn.

The fact that they themselves had managed to escape the darkspawn was pure luck. And besides, if they ran into more darkspawn, there was enough of them that they had a good chance of being able to fend them off.

On her own, Neria wouldn't stand a chance against the horde. It didn't matter how powerful a mage she was. Even if Alistair was with her, they still had no chance of survival.

_ I have to stop thinking about Neria. I need to figure out what we're going to do now._

The problem was, he had no idea what to do next. The Grey Wardens were all but destroyed, Cailan was dead, the army was demolished, the darkspawn could attack the rest of Fereldan unimpeded… The thing that was most pressing on his mind was what happened to Loghain. _Did the darkspawn overwhelm him too?_

He looked back to check on the few survivors that were left. Darrian and Theron seemed fine physically and psychologically, as did Natia. Solona was grieving over Neria and Aedan was just plain out of it. Francis and Carver seemed fine too, though a few of the soldiers that were following behind were wounded, some too much to walk on their own. Duran couldn't count on Solona to heal them, as she wouldn't be able to concentrate like she needed to. _What could we do to stop the horde?_

That's when he remembered Neria had mentioned something about ancient treaties. _Of course! We could go to the Dalish, the Circle of Magi, and… blast. Orzammar._ Getting into Orzammar would be tricky for him and Natia, if they would be able to get in at all. _Darrian and Theron would have to get their support. Aedan and Solona aren't in their right minds right now._

"We're almost there," the elf leading them said.

The announcement broke Duran out of his thoughts. He looked ahead, seeing the bluish glow of moonlight shining into the tunnel.

When they came out of the tunnel, they saw that they were surrounded by trees, the Imperial Highway not far away.

"This is where we part ways," the elf announced, turning around.

"Wait, what?" Natia asked, surprised. "You're a Grey Warden. You should help us!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't. I will warn the Grey Wardens in Orlais of what happened here, though."

"But… Fine. I guess that's all we can ask of you."

The elf nodded and turned around, heading deeper into the forest.

"Me and Carver need to get back to Lothering," Francis states. "We need to tell our family what happened."

"I guess we'll go with you," Duran says. "We'll be able to recover and rearm in the tavern anyway."

Francis nodded and they headed toward Lothering. _Some of the wounded won't make it. If Solona was able to concentrate on healing them, at least for a little while, their chances would be much better._ Duran sighed. _Damn._

* * *

Neria was back in the Circle. Everything was normal: Jowan was a full mage, Solona was in the library studying healing magic, Irving was in his office reading, even Greagoir seemed content. Neria was looking through her books on primal and entropic magic when she heard a knock on her door. She turned and walked toward it. She opened the door and saw Duncan standing there. He seemed to be smiling.

Then Alistair appeared behind him, smiling as well. Neria smiled back, glad to see them both. She motioned for them to enter, closing the door behind them.

Suddenly, her room turned into the fourth floor of the Tower of Ishal. She looked toward Duncan and saw him collapse to the ground. Then dozens of arrows appeared on Alistair as collapsed to the ground too. Neria tried to scream, but her voice was drowned out by the roar of thousands of darkspawn.

* * *

She woke and summoned a fireball into her hand instinctively, ready to launch it at the nearest threat. She looked around. She was in a house of some sort. A fireplace in front of her, a chest at the foot of the bed she was in, as well as another one next to the fireplace. She heard a scoff to her left and looked in that direction, seeing Morrigan standing there, her arms crossed across her chest. Neria clenched her hand and the fireball fizzled out. That's when she realized that she was in her small clothes.

Instinctively, she grabbed the covers, pulling them over her chest.

"Good, you are finally awake," Morrigan stated, almost as if she didn't really care.

"Where am I?" Neria asked, suspicious.

"You are back in the Wilds. Mother saved you and your friend. Do you not remember?"

"I… remember the darkspawn and… the beacon. We were overwhelmed and… I don't remember anything else."

"Yes. Mother saved the both of you from the top of the tower. You were both wounded and unconscious, though your injuries were not beyond her ability to heal."

_ At least her mother was there to save us. Morrigan probably would have left us to die._ "Well… What happened?"

"The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field." _What? But… that can't be._ "Those he abandoned were massacred. Your friend, he is not taking it well. I suppose it would be unkind to say that he is being childish."

_ Everyone's… dead? Oh no… Solona._ "Are you sure there weren't survivors? Surely they can't all be dead."

"There were survivors, though none of them were Grey Wardens. I'm… sorry." It sounded like Morrigan wasn't used to apologizing for anything. Or showing sympathy for that matter.

"This is… I-I need to be alone."

"Of course, but Mother wished to see you when you woke. You should not keep her waiting." Morrigan nodded and left the room after handing Neria her robes and staff.

When Morrigan left, Neria brought her hands to her face and began to weep.

* * *

Alistair was outside of the hut that Morrigan and her mother shared, looking out over the lake. While he was still in shock over the news that all the Grey Wardens except himself and Neria were dead, the one thing he couldn't get out of his mind was that last moment in the tower, right before he fell to the darkspawn's arrows.

He had seen Neria collapse, an arrow in her arm, in both shoulders, and her abdomen. Instead of focusing on the darkspawn, he had shouted her name as she lay, bleeding, on the ground before he fell. _Why did I do that? I barely know her._

He couldn't shake the memory from his mind. He could tell that she liked him, she seemed to giggle a lot around him, but he wasn't sure if he felt the same way about her. _I mean, I like her, but… I don't know. Am I crazy?_

Then he heard the door to the hut open and close. He turned his head and saw Neria, head lowered somewhat, walking over to him. He noticed that her eyes were red and there were tear tracks running down her cheeks, like she had been crying. "Are you alright?" he asked.

She only nodded, not saying a word.

"You see?" Morrigan's mother started. "Here is your friend now. You worry too much, young man."

He ignored the comment. "I thought that you wouldn't… Are you sure you're alright?"

"… y-yeah…," Neria responded, the pain in her voice obvious.

"This is unreal. If it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd still be at the top of that tower."

"Do not speak about me as if I am not here, lad," Morrigan's mother said, sounding barely annoyed.

"I didn't mean… But what do we call you? You never told us your name."

"Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasind folk call me Flemeth. I suppose that will do." _What the…?_

"**The** Flemeth? From the legends? Daveth was right. You're a Witch of the Wilds aren't you?"

"Some call me that. Also Asha'Bellanar, 'an old hag who talks too much.'" _Asha'Bellanar is Flemeth? This just gets weirder and weirder…_ "Does it matter? I know some magic and it has served you both well, has it not?" _She has a point…_

He glanced at Neria, who seemed somewhat distant. She was probably still in shock too. "Point taken." He noticed Morrigan roll her eyes out of the corner of his eye. _What a bitch._

* * *

They had finally made it to Lothering, passing through a group of bandits who had moved out of their way without a word. Darrian just looked around. Francis and Carver had rushed off ahead to their family's farm and most of the soldiers who made the trip had continued on to Denerim, leaving Darrian, Duran, Solona, Natia, Aedan, Theron, and Bones on their own.

Darrian wanted to go to Denerim too. He had to let everyone in the alienage know that he was still alive. They probably thought he was dead, like the rest of the Grey Wardens.

He felt sort of bad that Neria was dead, and he almost felt sorry for Solona. _Almost._

They walked into the tavern, where Aedan, Natia, Duran, and Solona had apparently stayed at to rest the day before they came to Ostagar. When they entered, several men, clad the same armor Loghain's men wore, stood up and approached them. Duran took a step forward, placing himself between the soldiers and the others. Darrian took a few steps forward as well, standing next to the dwarf. He didn't move up to keep the others safe, so much as to intimidate the soldiers into backing off. Unfortunately for them, they stood their ground.

"Eh!" one of the soldiers started, obviously drunk. "What are you doing here? You looking for trouble?"

"Maybe we are, shem," Darrian said, shifting to a more intimidating posture. "Are you going to do anything about it?"

Duran elbowed him in the thigh before saying, "No. We are just here to get some rooms. Nothing more."

"Well, I don't like you," the soldier said, glancing at Darrian. "Or this knife-ear."

Darrian didn't even try to respond. He reached forward, grabbing the soldier's collar, and head-butted him hard in the face, a loud 'crack' resonating through the tavern, getting more than a little attention. The soldier fell to the floor, clutching his now broken and bleeding nose. "Say that again. I dare you," he said, making himself sound as menacing as possible. That's when he heard the rest of the soldiers unsheathe their weapons. Instinctively, he grabbed the hilt of his greatsword, ready to draw it out in an instant.

"Damn it, Darrian," Duran said, unsheathing his axe and shield.

"Gentlemen, please," said a woman off to the left. Darrian glanced and saw the woman, red-haired and dressed in Chantry robes with a dagger on her back. He scoffed as she said, "Haven't we had enough violence? Surely these poor souls are simply seeking refuge."

"'Poor souls?'" another soldier echoed. "That blasted knife-ear broke-"

He didn't even let the man finish. He punched the soldier in the jaw, hard. Another loud 'crack' when his fist made contact, breaking the soldier's jaw and sending him to the floor, unconscious.

"Anyone else want to call me a knife-ear?" he said, daring anyone to try it. He saw half of the people in the tavern quickly look away, trying not to attract his attention. "Thought so." _Blasted humans._

"Are you trying to start a fight?" Natia asked. He heard her unsheathe her weapons as Bones started to growl at the soldiers.

"These are Loghain's men," Darrian responded, making it sound like it should have been obvious. "That means that Loghain left us all to die at Ostagar."

"Are you sure?" Duran asked.

"Do you have a better explanation for why he didn't charge when the beacon was lit?" Duran was quiet for a moment. "Besides, look at their armor, only Loghain's men wore that."

"I was there!" shouted yet another soldier. "The teryn saved us from a trap! A trap the Grey Wardens had set to kill the king!" _A trap? What an idiot…_

"You weren't on the field fighting darkspawn," Aedan said, everyone looking back at him in surprise. "The king was killed by an ogre. Not the Grey Wardens." _Finally he does something other than sulk._

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I'm a Grey Warden and I was fighting amidst the horde. I saw it."

"Damn it, Aedan," Darrian cursed, unsheathing his greatsword. "Great way to just blurt that out."

"You're a Grey Warden?" the soldier started. "The Grey Wardens are traitors to the crown! You are all under arrest!" Aedan unsheathed his own weapons, as did Theron, while Solona grabbed her staff. The Chantry sister grabbed her dagger. _Idiot. She's going to get herself killed._

"Come and get us," Darrian said, charging at the closest soldier, the tavern's patrons scattering to get out of the way.. He slashed on a downward angle, causing the soldier to slam into the ground. He spun around and blocked a blow from another soldier, following up by nailing the soldier in the face with the pommel of his bade, knocking him back onto a table. He chopped downward onto the soldier's gut, the force of the blow breaking the table in half. He turned around and charged at another soldier when he heard, "Alright! Alright! We surrender!" He stopped and looked to see Theron standing behind a soldier, his sword on the man's throat and his dagger in the man's back. Darrian turned and walked over to them swinging his greatsword menacingly.

"Good," the Chantry sister started, sheathing her dagger. "They've leaned their lesson and we can all stop fighting now."

"Oh, we're not done," Darrian said, focusing his gaze on the soldier. "I say we finish them off."

"They've surrendered! You've proven they were no match for you! You can't just kill them!"

"And why not? You humans kill elves every day. I'm simply returning the favor." He walked around the soldier that Theron was holding, twirling his blade. He faced the soldier, whose eyes widened in fear. He drew a knife from his belt and held it to the soldier's throat before slicing it, blood pouring out of the wound. Theron released his grip on the soldier as he collapsed to the ground, choking on his own blood.

"You aren't helping, Darrian," Theron stated shaking his head as he turned to block a blow from another soldier, following up with a thrust through his gut.

"I'm not the one who blurted out the fact that we're Grey Wardens." He sliced another soldier before he gave Aedan a quick glare. After a couple more minutes of fighting, all the soldiers were either dead, or had run away. Everyone sheathed their weapons and looked toward the sister.

"You didn't have to kill them," she said to Darrian, a look of regret in her eyes.

"You trying to make me feel guilty about it? They'd have killed us without a second thought."

"Who exactly are you anyway?" Natia asked, curious.

"I am Leliana, lay sister of the Chantry here in Lothering," the sister introduced herself. "Or, at least, I was."

"I suppose you want something?" Duran asked, crossing his arms.

"I heard your friend say that you were Grey Wardens. Is that true?"

"Yeah. Why do you want to know?"

"I want to help. I know that I'm supposed to help you."

"And, uh, how do you know this?"

"The Maker told me. In a vision."

Darrian turned around and left the tavern. _I've had enough of this for today._


End file.
